A Hunt for Horcruxes
by MagicIsMight62442
Summary: What if the Dark Lord decided to keep the promise he made to Snape and actually spared Lily's life? How did this all come to pass? Will Lily (and others) be able to deal with the consequences that follow?
1. The Murders

**Disclaimer: This work is derived from property owned by J.K. Rowling. I make no claim to ownership of said property. No monetary profit is made from this FanFiction.**

 **A/N: Warning: A lot of dark themes are portrayed in this story.**

 _Lily_

It was the thirty-first of October, 1980. Lily opened her eyes, feeling a bit disoriented at first. She was resting on her husband's lap, her feet curled on the edge of the pink sofa. She could hear children shouting gleefully outside as they went trick-or-treating. The atmosphere indoors, however, was more solemn and quiet.

The christening ceremony earlier that day had passed relatively smoothly. Sirius was named Godfather to Harry. All four Marauders were laughing and having a good time, with James proudly showing off his son. She felt that the few hours of blissful celebration were a welcome distraction from the terrors of what had become engrained in their day-to-day life.

She was glad to see that many of the surviving members of the Order had made themselves present. They were getting fewer in number every month.

She sat on the couch lost in thought, reminiscing about all of the good times she had spent with friends who were now no more. She could not help but contemplate about Frank and Alice, who had gone missing for months and were by now presumed dead.

Upstairs, the sharp sound of crying snapped Lily back to focus. She looked at her husband who was now beginning to stir from his slumber. "The baby woke up, James. I bet he's hungry. Let me go make him a bottle."

Lily delicately jumped up from the sofa and headed for the kitchen. Behind her, she could hear James saying groggily, "Lily, why don't you bring a bottle out for us as well, huh?"

She smiled at her husband in exasperation. As she reached into the pantry for the milk, a feeling of inexplicable dread settled over her. It came quickly and disappeared in a flash, and then she knew it was too late. The green light brightened the nursery upstairs, and for a moment, all was quiet.

The silence was broken by James' frantic shouts as he dashed up the stairs to investigate what had happened. Lily dropped the milk and followed him, wandless. All she could do was fervently hope that the curse had missed its intended target, and that she would reach upstairs fast enough to take care of things. Everything would be alright, everything would be alright…

James hurriedly yanked at the nursery door, his wand out and ready to attack. To Lily's horror, as soon as the door swung open, James stiffened and collapsed face down as another flash of green light filled the room.

The colour from Lily's face drained away as she looked down at her husband, his dead body motionless on the floor. She looked over James' corpse and saw He Who Must Not Be Named, his pale figure standing over the crib, and again a deafening silence echoed. She saw that the window was opened; she was pretty sure it was locked to prevent the chilly air from entering the nursery. Fear and agony gripped her as she processed the situation in the nursery.

She glanced back down at her feet, and almost froze in sorrow. Her husband was dead – no, no, no, it couldn't be true! How could he leave her to suffer here alone? Didn't he know that he had to take care of his family? Why did he have to leave her? She broke down into an overwhelming sob, her hot tears searing her cheeks. She couldn't bear to see any more.

Without thinking, she inched her way closer to the crib, closer to the corner of the room, closer to You-Know-Who.

Her stomach churned as she looked inside the crib. One of the babies was unnaturally still, his eyes vacant. She tried to look away but failed. She had to accept it. He was dead. The baby was murdered. There was nothing more she could do. Lily buckled with the weight of emotion that hit her with forceful impact, a double whammy in the form of the death of both her husband and the child. She felt stifled with anguish as she became a spectator over the lifeless body, so small and tender, an irreplaceable joy snatched away from her forever.

She saw that the other baby was alive – for now. He was peacefully sleeping amidst all of the commotion, his chest gently rising and falling with every breath he took.

You-Know-Who had watched her every move since she entered the nursery. She could feel his dark eyes staring into her soul, watching, waiting, ready to strike. The Dark Lord looked at her in mocking amusement as she scooped up the baby in her arms and pressed him close to her chest.

After a few moments of cradling the child, she looked up. The Dark Lord stepped back from the crib and glanced directly at her, his red eyes making hypnotic contact with her green ones. You-Know-Who raised his wand, pointing it malevolently at the child.

"No, please!" Lily cried. She saw the baby's eyes flutter open, looking with fascination at the dark figure in the room, not realizing the true danger he was in.

The Dark Lord continued to watch her. She could see his agitation brewing. His mouth curled into a snarl, but he made no move to attack her. She looked at the crib, and then looked at her husband. Immense grief overwhelmed her, and she fell to her knees with the child clutched to her breasts.

"Please, take me. Take me instead. Not the baby, please!" Her voice was shrill and desperate.

"Surrender the child, girl," You-Know-Who demanded.

"Please, don't hurt the baby. Kill me instead!" She shielded the child with her arms.

"Stand aside and give up the child, foolish girl!" You-Know-Who repeated impatiently.

Lily retreated to the back of her mind. She told herself that everything would be fine, that James was still waiting downstairs to share the bottle of Firewhisky he asked her to bring for him, and that Harry, who looked just like James, was fast asleep in his crib. Deep down, she knew this was fantasy, but the fantasy overpowered You-Know-Who's harsh voice. She was deaf to the painful reality, deaf to his words, deaf to his demands to give up the child.

Suddenly, she heard footsteps approaching her. She felt something grab her arms with surprising force, trying to pry the child away from her.

Lily begged for mercy, her voice whining like a puppy. "Please don't hurt him. Please. PLEASE!" She was rocking back and forth, howling uncontrollably, unable to look at anything else but the bundle of blankets in her arms.

She finally looked into her perpetrator's eyes, and felt a brief moment of surprise, which gradually turned to pity, and then to sorrow. "Please," she begged. "You don't want to do this. I know you don't."

The torture seemed to go on for hours. The rough hands felt obscene and abrasive, but all she knew was that she needed to hold on to the baby. She couldn't let go; not now, not ever.

She went on like this for as long as she could remember, clutching the baby as tightly as she could. The rough hands finally turned into a caress and she gazed upon the familiar face, their eyes softening from the cold, empty stare.

Her perpetrator got up and planted themselves between her and the Dark Lord. They cast a long shadow over her in the dimly lit room, covering her body in their presence, as if trying to protect her from what was to come.

Lily could hear the Dark Lord echoing his warning, ever more hysterically. "Stand aside!" But she realized that his words were not meant for her now. He was speaking to the individual in front of her.

Lily watched as her protector shook their head in defiance, and heard clearly the sound of fury issuing from the Dark Lord's mouth, a poisonous curse that was too brutal for her to hear: "Avada Kedavra!"

Another body lay slumped on the floor, and Lily felt as if she received a blow to her stomach. She and the baby were the lone survivors in the room, and the Dark Lord was marching menacingly toward her now.

"Please, not the baby! Take me instead!" Her words were useless. They carried insignificant meaning now, no matter how many times they were repeated.

She felt her body freeze up from the effects of a full body bind curse, and she keeled over onto the floor with a dull thud. The shock of the curse loosened her arms a little before making its impact, and the baby partially slipped out of her arms.

The child was crying now, its innocent face exposed from the blankets. Lily could see the Dark Lord advancing closer, but she could not move. She felt her lungs contracting, her mind suffocating.

The last words she could remember hearing were the ones that sent a sickening chill down her spine, words she did not want to hear again for the rest of her life.

"Avada Kedavra!" A flash of green light burst forth, and then darkness followed.

A racket of noise arose from the aftermath as she felt the body-bind curse being lifted, and she saw that half of the house was blasted away. She turned and looked at the dark scorched marks on the walls and on the floor, but there was no sign of You-Know-Who. The Dark Lord had vanished suddenly, and for a moment Lily felt a surge of relief.

She looked down at the baby in front of her, a lightning bolt scar etched on his forehead. The child was unharmed otherwise, and for that she was thankful.

However, the feeling gradually changed into a feeling of hollowness as she gazed at the remains of her home.

Lily continued to cradle Neville Longbottom as he gazed up at her with his innocent eyes. He was alive and well, albeit a scarred baby, but her grief could not be diluted. James was dead, her savior was dead, and Harry Potter, her son, lay dead in his crib.

 **A/N: To be continued. What I liked most about J.K. Rowling's Harry Potter series was that it always pulled me in the webs of its mystery. It had me drawn to the foreshadowing and the plot twists, and invoked a sense of fear and suspense while I read the books. I hoped to convey something like that with this story, but in my own style.**

 **Thanks for reading! Please review!**


	2. Servant and Master

_Severus_

He sat there in the dark corner of the room, devoured in stealth and silence by the looming shadows of the untidy inn. His greasy hand extended toward a glass of mead sitting on top of the dusty table. He was waiting for about half an hour now, his eyes darting impatiently as he scoped around the room. Finally, the door creaked. A rush of moonlight, wind and drizzling rain momentarily swept the inn. Startled, he withdrew his hand under his cloak in nervous haste.

The entrant strode purposefully past the serving tables, not even glancing in his direction. The front door swung shut behind the newcomer, leaving Severus to drown in the darkness once again. The wizard who entered the inn walked straight toward the back of the lonely tavern. The strange figure exchanged a few indiscernible words with the awaiting innkeeper, and then made a left onto a narrow staircase. The innkeeper was left to stomp off to the kitchen, uttering a rude remark after the wizard.

Severus Snape waited for the clomping of Dumbledore's boots to fade away before getting up from his chair. Still with his hood on, he made his way across the Hog's Head inn and proceeded up the stairs and down the hallway, constantly stopping to make sure that he was not being watched.

The hallway ended via a single wooden door. As he approached it with caution, he felt as if the narrow walls were closing in. What little warmth he experienced at the table ebbed away as he advanced closer toward the door, and as he placed his hand on the metallic doorknob, his palm burned with coldness. Simultaneously, a loud clatter emanated from inside the room. He jumped in mild surprise and retracted his hand away from the doorknob; whether it be from the cold or the noise he could not say. It was embarrassingly reminiscent of his instinctive reaction when Dumbledore entered the inn. He peered into the keyhole and his view focused into the well-lit interior, meagrely furnished with a patched sofa that overtly relayed its old age. Opposite the sofa was a comfortable, cushioned chair that seemed pristine and out of place, and in between, a small tea table littered with jars and cups.

Severus watched as a bespectacled woman got up from the sofa to pick up the pieces of a broken cup scattered all over the floor. Dumbledore watched her serenely, not bothering to move from his chair or to offer any assistance. When she was finished, Dumbledore asked inquiringly, "Well, Sybill, it finally appears that you have a prediction for me. What could you have possibly seen that caused you so much visible distress? I assume you dropped the cup out of shock at what you observed when you looked into its contents?"

Sybill Trelawney gazed into Dumbledore's eyes with trepidation. She pointed her finger dramatically, her arms quivering. Then, in a honeyed, mystical voice, she exclaimed, "Do you truly desire to know what I see when I peered into your empty cup of tea, Professor Dumbledore?"

"I do," Dumbledore replied coolly.

"In these tea leaves, I see that there will be a great hurdle that you must overcome. However, in the end, you will suffer a great loss. The fates are against you, Professor Dumbledore!"

A few anticlimactic seconds followed until Dumbledore replied, "Is that all? Would you care to elaborate on this obstacle and this loss a little bit more?" Trelawney seemed as though she wanted to cry. She screwed her face in concentration. Dumbledore raised his eyebrows expectantly. "Y-y-you are in g-grave d-d-danger…" Trelawney finally stammered.

Dumbledore raised his hand in polite interruption. "That would be all, Sybill. I know this may not be the feedback you would have liked to receive, but I sincerely do not believe that you are the right candidate to teach Divination at Hogwarts. Please understand, and I wish you best of luck in your future endeavours." He got up from his chair, waved his wand and turned toward the door, leaving behind a confused and speechless Trelawney in his wake. Severus watched as the cushioned chair vanished from sight.

Before Severus began to move away from the keyhole, a sudden exclamation issued from Trelawney's mouth, causing Severus to do a double-take. Trelawney's voice was now a hoarse and harsh drawl, as if she was in a trance:

 _"The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches… born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies … and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not … and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives … the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies …"_

He watched fearfully, paralyzed in his crouched position at the keyhole, as Trelawney recited the prophecy and Dumbledore turned back to look at her in astonishment. Severus felt his body shuddering; the air felt even colder now. There was something about Trelawney's prediction that seemed not only foreboding, but unnervingly real. Her eyes had dilated as if she was being possessed by some unknown and powerful force that went as quickly as it came, for Trelawney reverted to her normal self as soon as the prophecy was over, almost passing out and recovering immediately in a comical jolt as though nothing had happened.

A sudden noise coming from downstairs broke Severus' fixation on the incident that had just occurred. Alarmed, he rushed toward the stairs, taking three steps at a time. The innkeeper was still in the kitchen. Severus bolted toward the front door and exited the inn. He was accosted by the chill and rain of the late night, but he ignored the nature of his surroundings. His only goal now was to get as far away from the inn as possible, the details of the prophecy sinking deeper and deeper into his mind with the passage of every minute.

All through the streets of Hogsmeade he ran, his breath fast and shallow. By the time he reached Honeydukes, his pace slowed into a stumble as the weight of the entire prophecy hit him. His master was going to die. He was going to be killed by an enemy of his master's own creation…No, he must do all in his power to prevent it. He must warn the Dark Lord before the prophecy came to fruition. And then he, Severus, would be recognized as the most valuable Death Eater. He would cement an even stronger bond with his master…

Severus glanced around. He took comfort in knowing that he was not being followed. After a quick glimpse behind him once more, he took out his wand and disapparated from the village.

* * *

The air was not much warmer here. The night sky was pitch black; a starless, expressionless void of darkness. He had apparated at the edge of a forest, the seemingly innocent brambles and bushes inviting him into thicker and deeper territory. He reluctantly stepped onto the narrow pathway, and the forest swallowed him in.

Ten minutes passed as he walked through the forest, the path becoming narrower and more meandering as he trudged deeper within. Finally, he reached a clearing. The atmosphere became still and silent, interrupted by the occasional hoot of an owl.

The Dark Lord stood in the middle of the clearing, his hideous face snake-like and contemplating. Although he was dressed in nothing but a simple robe, he exuded a strange sense of grandeur as he waited for Severus to approach him. "News, Severus?" His master stared at him with piercing red eyes, his pupils shaped like vertical slits.

"My Lord," Severus panted, a worrisome expression on his face. "I have heard a prophecy that may warrant your concern. Forgive me, my Lord, but the prophecy foretells your downfall by the hands of an enemy. My Lord, I do not fully understand it, but it has led me to believe that you could be in real danger –

"Quiet, Severus," Lord Voldemort demanded, his face taking on a look of intrigue and curiosity. "Tell me the exact words of the prophecy. Leave nothing out."

And so, Severus recounted his incident at the Hog's Head, surrendering every detail to his master. "I wanted to warn you as soon as I could, my Lord. Anxiety has been brewing inside me ever since."

"And you are certain that this is the entire prophecy?" Voldemort inquired, his eyes staring at him unfathomably.

"Yes, my Lord," Severus nodded, almost defiantly. Uncomfortable silence followed as Voldemort looked at him once again with scrutiny. He felt that the Dark Lord had an inkling of doubt about the information he presented.

"Believe me master, I have felt a strange power like none other when I witnessed the foretelling of this prophecy. I cannot claim with certainty that the future will take this path, but a sense of terror which I can't explain has clung to my heart. It is now difficult to feel at peace until you heed my warning and take action." Severus almost wished he held his tongue. He knew from experience that it was unwise to tell the Dark Lord what he should do.

"If what you say is true," Voldemort pondered, oblivious to Severus' suggestions, "then I must eliminate the threat posed by this prophecy. Born as the seventh month dies…this will be within the next six months, Severus. I cannot take any chances. It would be a grave misstep if I leave the child to turn into a full-grown adult. I must prepare to kill it before it gets even the slightest opportunity to rise up against me!"

Voldemort gazed up at the sky, the moon now beginning to peek out of the dark clouds. His pale skin almost glowed with the sudden exposure of light.

"My Lord?" Severus asked nervously.

"The prophecy states that I will mark the child as my equal, and that he will have powers unknown to me. I, on the other hand, know that my power has no boundaries. I have seen and experienced magic that the greatest witches and wizards before me could never dream of. Yet, I still wish to approach the matter cautiously. I will not interfere, lest my actions result in the prophecy becoming self-fulfilled. I shall instruct Bellatrix to kill any child belonging to parents in the Order of the Phoenix, and who is born at the end of July. We shall see then if this prophecy has any bearing. It says that the child cannot die at the hand of anyone else other than me."

"My Lord, this is surely a mistake," Severus rebutted immediately. "If you don't wish to kill the baby yourself, have me do it instead. With every step you take, I would forever and gladly be at your side."

"Do not dare to question me, Severus. My decision to involve Bellatrix is none of your concern. She has proven to be a capable, faithful and loyal servant thus far. I admit that you have served me well, Severus. You have done a great deal and you have shown tremendous loyalty toward me. But I wish for you to continue your role as a spy and gather more information about Dumbledore, and about whom this prophecy may refer to."

"My Lord, this is still no easy task," Severus objected. "Dumbledore knows I am a Death Eater. There is no way for me to regain his trust –

"And yet you have procured valuable information for me, Severus. You underestimate your own ability."

Severus looked up at his master with wonder and gratitude.

"Leave me now, Severus. I have important matters to attend to."

* * *

"Do you have any updates for me, Severus?" the Dark Lord asked. Severus looked up, and shook his head in disappointment.

"My Lord, forgive me, but I tried to dissuade you – I knew there was a chance that Bellatrix would not succeed. I know that you are still hurt by her failure to kill Neville a few months ago. I should have been given the task instead. Please, let me hunt the boy down! I assure you that I will do the job to your satisfaction."

"Silence, fool!" Voldemort demanded. Severus could see the hot, intense fury on his master's face. He momentarily recoiled in fear at the Dark Lord's wrath, but he regained his composure a few moments later. He needed to clear his mind, and he needed to convince his master to let him kill Neville Longbottom. He found both tasks surprisingly difficult.

After warning his master about the prophecy, Severus had continued his duty as a spy. One day, with sheer coincidence and dumb luck, he had come face to face with Peter Pettigrew, a cowardly and irritating friend of his nemesis, James Potter. Severus was strolling down an alley, following one of the members of the Order, when Peter called him out from behind. Apparently, Pettigrew thought that he could for once play the hero. But before Pettigrew could even hex him, Severus whipped out his wand and shouted, "Expelliarmus!" Peter's wand shot out of his hand. In a quick flash, Severus stunned Peter and dragged him off to Spinner's End, realizing that Peter could be of great use to him. He managed to cast an Imperius curse on Peter. Severus knew that Pettigrew was a weakling, but it was also true that he associated himself with the more pertinent members of the Order. He sent Peter out to mingle with these members, forcing Peter to give him weekly reports on the Order's activities.

At the beginning of July, he found out that Lily Potter was pregnant for James. In that instant, he felt as though he had never hated James more than this moment in his life. But Peter had described how happy Lily's life was, and it was somewhat sufficient to counterbalance his anger.

He then found out that Frank and Alice Longbottom were also having a baby. This information was passed even more indirectly to him, since Peter heard the news from Lily. She was now closer friends with Alice, having shared the experience of their first pregnancies.

Severus was getting more and more desperate as the end of July drew near. Later, when he found out that both babies were due soon, he felt his stomach turn. He was hoping for Lily's child to be born after July, but deep down, he knew that the fates did not have this future in store. To his knowledge, there were no other members of the Order who were expecting at that time.

Carefully, he had reported back to the Dark Lord. He told his master that there was indeed a baby who would be born at the end of July, to Frank and Alice Longbottom, both of whom were in the Order. He insisted that he was sure the prophecy was referring to this child. Being a skilled Occlumens, he concealed the fact that another baby would be born at the end of that month, also to members of the Order. Feelings of anxiety and guilt clouded his heart as he realized that he had lied to his master, but there was also a feeling of hope that maybe Lily could be safe and happy. He knew that if the Dark Lord found out about the other child, Lily's joy would fade away, for his master would stop at nothing until his task was complete.

The Dark Lord had praised Severus for his service and ordered Bellatrix to kill Frank and Alice's baby as soon as it was born. Bellatrix had failed her mission (it brought Severus a twinge of delight that she would lose favour with the Dark Lord, but for the most part he was terrified of his master's uncontrollable anger). She had managed to murder Frank and torture Alice to insanity, in an attempt to gain information about their baby Neville's whereabouts. However, Neville's grandmother had somehow known that she was coming, and took Neville away. Now, the old lady was on the run, leaving Neville behind in a location unknown to the Dark Lord.

And then, for the next three months, Peter consistently reported that all was well with the Potters. He told Severus that Lily had never been happier. She had named her child Harry. Severus had drifted into a daydream about Lily's beautiful smile, her contagious laughter, the warmth of her green eyes…

Today, they were going to christen the boy. Today, on Halloween, the boy would be exactly three months old. He could envision Lily in her bright dress, matching her long, flowing hair, cradling Harry as she walked up to the altar of the church.

"Severus!" He jumped at his master's call. He realized that he was dwelling on his thoughts for far too long. The Dark Lord was peering into his face, his eyes fixed on Severus' dark, almost black irises.

"I know that there is another," Lord Voldemort muttered.

A feeling of dread settled in Severus' stomach. The Dark Lord - he knows. How did he find out? Severus looked directly into Voldemort's eyes and blocked his mind completely, his expression fading into nothingness.

"Is there something you wish to tell me, Severus?" Voldemort surveyed him with extensive examination, his red eyes ready to flare.

"M-my Lord?" Severus began, his eyes staring at his master blankly.

"There are other sources, Severus, who informed me of a baby boy born to Lily and James Potter. Severus, do you know what day this child was born?"

"No, my Lord," Severus replied quietly.

"This boy, the Potters' child, was born on the thirty-first of July. He could be the one the prophecy speaks of."

"My Lord, forgive me," Severus said, his face still impassive, "but how do you know this?"

"That business is mine, Severus."

The Dark Lord turned away from Severus, leaving him in quiet discomfort. Had his leader found out that he knew about Harry all along?

Severus said carefully, "I am terribly sorry I couldn't give you this information myself, my Lord. Please trust me, I did not know about this news. I admit that I knew the Potters were having a baby this year, but Peter Pettigrew had told me it was to be born in September. You know I have told you this much. And after…and after that, my Lord, you knew that Peter had escaped my clutches. He broke the Imperius curse I had placed on him, somehow. Maybe he was getting stronger, I don't know. But when we found out about Neville, I didn't bother to keep a good grip on Peter, since I felt certain that our goal would be accomplished. My Lord, I swear I am telling the truth!"

His master scrutinized him. At last, he said, "I believe you, Severus. However, I alone must see to it that threats against me are eliminated completely. Hence, I shall kill Harry Potter myself."

Severus stared, confusion and anxiety etched upon his face, "But my Lord, what about the prophecy? My Lord, Neville Longbottom has to be the one the prophecy speaks of! Please, let me find and kill Neville for you. I am confident that Harry is not the subject of the prophecy. How can Harry be a threat to you when he is only a half-blood, having been born to that filthy muggle girl? He can never, in any circumstance, be matched with you, so why should you deem him as having the potential to be a worthy foe? Even Neville can't stand a chance against you, surely, but he is pure-blooded, like you. The prophecy must definitely refer to Neville, my Lord. I cannot see it revolving around any other!"

"It would be well for you to know your place, Severus. If I did not know any better, it seems as though you are trying to protect Harry Potter."

"Never, my Lord! I am only concerned about the ramifications of the prophecy and to identify whom it refers to. Harry Potter means nothing to me, and this is the truth. I have no care whether he lives or he dies –

"Then there is nothing else to discuss," the Dark Lord said. His cold, high voice echoed throughout the room.

Severus summoned up his courage once more. "Forgive me, my Lord, but why have you changed your mind and are now insisting that you kill Harry Potter yourself? And have you forgotten about Neville Longbottom and about Bellatrix's failure to kill him? Are you not concerned that he may indeed be the one mentioned in the prophecy?"

Lord Voldemort looked at Severus, his lips widening into a malicious smile. "Ah, Severus. I believe I have now found a loophole in the prophecy. I know where Neville is being kept. Both Neville and Harry will certainly die, and then nothing more would be in my way."

Severus turned his face away from his master. He now knew there was no option for Harry Potter to live, for no one has ever managed to escape his master. With a quick jolt, the wheels of his mind spun as he thought about what would happen to his dearest Lily. Her son would be dead. She and her husband would also be killed if they try to put up a fight. Severus knew that they would indeed try, and he felt his heartstrings tug at the thought of losing the one he loved the most, finally for good now.

"What is on your mind, Severus?"

He jumped in shock that he had lost his focus again. He felt that the Dark Lord knew his desire, but he knew that his master wanted him to say it out loud, wanted him to beg.

"My Lord," Severus chose his words carefully, "I have been your humblest and most faithful servant. I have never asked for reward nor favor. The pleasure to be in your service was always enough remuneration. You have continuously shown me mercy, my Lord, even when I have erred on few occasions. I am forever indebted to you, my Lord."

"Speak what you truly wish, Severus," Lord Voldemort hissed.

"My Lord, will you grant me one single favor? You know I have never asked anything from you. But my only wish is that you would spare the mother, my Lord. Please, I beg you, spare Lily Potter, my Lord!"

Severus fell on his knees, his face pressed close to his master's feet.

Lord Voldemort stood still for a moment and then projected a short cruel laughter. "And why, Severus, would you make this unusual request? Surely you cannot be in love with this filth of a woman! Your feelings are ill-placed, Severus."

"Please, my Lord, please do not harm her!"

Lord Voldemort looked at him with disgust as Severus tried to clutch his cloak. "If she does not resist me, I shall spare her life."

But Severus knew that his pleading was not enough to guarantee Lily's safety. He was desperate, and he needed to convince the Dark Lord to keep his promise at all costs.

* * *

It was the night of Halloween, just before the Dark Lord set out to hunt his quarry.

"Please remember the promise you made to me, my Lord," Severus requested. "You can see that I have tried to help you fulfill your task as best as I can."

"Very well, Severus," the Dark Lord said dismissively, "You have indeed served me well, and I am a man of mercy."

A wave of hope and relief rushing into Severus' face, as he continued to utter profuse gratitude to his master.

 **A/N: To be continued. As you may have gathered, each chapter will focus on different characters' points of view. I've attempted to put a little GRRM spin on the narrative style.**

 **We see the main reason for the divergence in canon to this new path which my story traverses. Snape, unlike in canon, has heard the entire prophecy uninterrupted and has informed his master of the entire prophecy.**

 **I hope you like the story so far; please leave a review!**


	3. The Confrontation

_Albus_

The Three Broomsticks was crowded as usual. "So, Dumbledore, you finally decided to show up at my bar," Rosmerta scolded at him over the counter, her arms folded. "I can't remember the last time you paid me a visit!"

"Sincerest apologies, Rosmerta," Dumbledore replied, smiling amiably, "But you of all people should remember just how busy I am these days. I have a whole school to run, you know. I just wish you could tell me how you manage your lovely bar with such efficiency. This place is always booming with business. Maybe I too can apply your wondrous secrets to my own job at Hogwarts."

"Don't try to flatter me, Dumbledore! I can tell that you're just making excuses. Don't think I'm not aware of your patronage at the Hogs Head inn a few months ago! I can't imagine for the life of me why you would even venture into that grimy place, when you could always come to me and get the finest quality mead in all of Britain!"

Madame Rosmerta slid a flask of spiced wine over to Dumbledore, who took a sip and closed his eyes in satisfaction. "Happy Halloween!" she grinned.

"It seems that you are right on all accounts, Rosmerta. Your beverages are without a doubt as top-notch as ever. Do save some of my favorite mead for me to carry back to Hogwarts, will you?"

"So, you admit it," Madame Rosmerta said triumphantly. "You did go to the Hogs Head without even bothering to check up on me! Was it to see your goat-obsessing brother? I can't imagine that you two have made up now so as to be on such chatty terms with each other."

Dumbledore chuckled. "Rosmerta, I can assure you that I was merely on professional business at the Hog's Head. You see, I was there to interview an applicant for a teaching post at Hogwarts. But pray tell me, how did you know?"

"Ah, Dumbledore," Madame Rosmerta replied, "I was there that night as well! Your dear old brother had invited me to come and taste some special rum he had brewed. Believe me, that was the last thing I would have ever wanted to do, but when he described his concoction, I became a little suspicious. You see, it sounded similar to one of my own beverages that I sell here."

"So, you naturally went to see first-hand whether your competitor was upping his game," Dumbledore surmised.

Madame Rosmerta laughed. "Certainly! And between you and me, I think old Aberforth was just using that as an excuse to have me over. I always felt that he has crush on me, you know. So, I felt like playing along in this little game of his."

Dumbledore smirked. "Ahh, Rosmerta, I see. Perhaps the reason why I didn't notice you was because you were too busy with my brother."

Madame Rosmerta continued her story as if she didn't hear him.

"We were in the kitchen, mostly. I was taking out two glasses from the cupboard – they were filthy as hell – and I was about to wipe them clean when I knocked over an empty bottle of butterbeer sitting on the counter. Seconds later I saw a hooded man running out of the inn. I thought I knew him; what was his name again? I'm trying to remember. Hmm, I wonder…was it Snape? Yes! Severus Snape! I heard his footsteps loud and clear coming downstairs, so I exited the kitchen to see what all the ruction was about!"

"And then," Madame Rosmerta blurted out, almost reproachfully, "I saw you coming down the stairs a few moments later. But did you pay any attention to me? Of course not! You just stormed out of the bar as if you had important business to tend to. Well I suppose you did, didn't you? Did Snape get the job?"

Dumbledore looked at the barmaid intently as she told her story. Solemnly, he replied, "No Rosmerta, it wasn't Snape I was interviewing at the Hogs Head. It was someone else. I'm terribly sorry for not noticing you that night, Rosmerta. I beg your pardon, but I must leave immediately from here."

As Dumbledore got up from his stool and turned toward the exit, he heard Madame Rosmerta shouting behind his back, "When will I see you next, Dumbledore?"

He left without answering her.

* * *

He felt he had known from the beginning, but he wasn't sure. It could have just been a random noise, he thought. Had someone really been eavesdropping on his interview with Trelawney?

He had no choice but to offer Trelawney the Divination post after all. It was for her own protection. He had quickly bidden her goodbye and had dashed downstairs in hopeful pursuit of any potential intruder. However, he hadn't found anything to warrant further suspicion.

Then, six months later, the terrible event happened. He felt furious with himself. Frank and Alice had been captured, and he couldn't help but feeling that it was his fault. But, he reminded himself, he wasn't sure who was the child the prophecy was referring to, and how could he have known that they would have been in danger at all?

He had tried to protect the Longbottoms and the Potters, but he clearly should have done much more. He told them about the power of the Fidelius charm, and suggested that they find trustworthy secret keepers. He even offered to be secret keeper for both families, but both refused. He didn't press them for their reasons. In retrospect, he should have at least enquired about the identities of the secret keepers each family chose.

Frank and Alice were not even at home the night they were taken. Even though the Fidelius charm was not directly placed on the house but rather on Frank and Alice themselves, their home served as a formidable boundary that strengthened their protection. Dumbledore had warned them to stay in their homes so that the charm would work to full effect. However, the second of August was their anniversary, and who could blame them for wanting to celebrate? They had left Neville with his grandmother that night, and went out together. But alas, they never returned.

He had no idea what happened to Augusta, and worse yet, he did not know where Neville was. He felt as if he was losing the war. The Order of the Phoenix was struggling to survive; he was risking too much. But he could not let Voldemort win. He had to protect the Chosen One.

When he found out about the attack on the Longbottoms, he resolved to find out how the Dark Lord knew about the prophecy. It could not merely have been a coincidence that the Longbottoms were targeted. He concluded that information about the prophecy had leaked somehow. He could no longer take any chances. Someone within the Order had been feeding Voldemort information. How else could the Dark Lord have known that Neville was born at the end of July?

It was not like him to be unaware of matters. However, his recent travels to foreign lands over the last few months had him very much preoccupied. He knew he had to take campaigning against Lord Voldemort to an international level if they truly wanted to win the war.

He had gotten back from a successful journey just yesterday, but was too tired to attend the Potters' christening ceremony the morning after. He had chosen to settle for a drink at the Three Broomsticks that evening, since he didn't feel like venturing out too much for Halloween after just returning home.

Now he knew exactly what had happened the night Trelawney made the prophecy. Snape had overheard it, and he went to inform his master. Dumbledore needed to assess exactly how severe the situation was. He had always held on to the hope that the Death Eater would someday come to his senses, but he realized he couldn't ignore his duty any longer. He needed to be the proactive, powerful wizard everyone admired and feared. He needed to confront Severus Snape.

* * *

He apparated on a road littered with rows of dilapidated brick houses. He briskly walked until he reached a dark alley, and navigated his way past a series of deserted, run-down structures. At last, he reached the very last house on the street labelled Spinner's End.

The curtains in the house had been drawn closed, shutting off any natural sunlight. Dumbledore took out his wand and rapped on the door. It swung inward, inviting him into a small, faintly lit sitting room.

Snape charged forward from the nearby cellar. "Impedimenta!" he cried. Dumbledore lazily disarmed him with a flick of his wand, and sat down on the old armchair. "Severus, we have much to discuss, I fear."

"Dumbledore!" Snape hissed. "Why have you come here? Do you intend to kill me?"

"No, I have not come to kill you. It seems that you underestimate me, Severus. I have no interest in matters concerning death. Those who think that gaining power can only be done through death are only to be pitied, and I'm sorry to say that I can't see myself degrading my personage to a low standard like that."

"Then the Dark Lord will surely defeat you," Snape muttered, a smile slowly creeping onto his face. "You are weak, Dumbledore! You are weak, and you are a coward!"

"I have no time for your babbling, Severus. I know that you were eavesdropping on my interview with Trelawney that night at the Hogs Head. Tell me, Severus, did you not think that the prophecy could in fact be referring to Lily Evan's son?"

"Of course!" Snape shouted angrily. "But it could also be referring to Frank and Alice's son!"

"You are only hoping that the prophecy is about Neville Longbottom, aren't you, Severus? Have you wondered what would happen if your master finds out about Harry Potter? By telling Lord Voldemort about the prophecy, you have doomed Lily Evans and her entire family! I know you, Severus. I know you still harbor love for Lily. However, it appears that your servitude to Lord Voldemort is more important than anything else."

"I have already told the Dark Lord about Harry Potter," Snape muttered apprehensively. "I have begged Him to spare her life. I have served Him with all my heart. I have convinced Him!" Snape said proudly. "And what does it matter? Lily Evans is worth everything to me. Her filthy, arrogant husband does not deserve her. He and her son's lives are cheap sacrifices in exchange for hers! After the Dark Lord finishes his mission, I am sure that she will understand. She will now be free to start over a new life; a life with me! She will see that only I can make her truly happy!"

"You disgust me," Dumbledore said. "But honestly, do you really think that Lord Voldemort will spare her?"

"Yes, yes!" Snape cried. "He promised me. I made Him promise!"

"And what if he doesn't keep his end of the bargain, Severus? What will you do then?"

The look of triumph on Snape's face vanished instantly. "I – I – He will do no such thing, Dumbledore!" Snape snarled.

"Severus, I know there is some shred of morality in you. If you want to see Lily Evans truly safe and happy, you must help me defeat Lord Voldemort once and for all. Help me save the Potter family."

"I will never betray the Dark Lord!" Severus exclaimed defiantly. "I know Lily Evans will be safe! But her husband and son are as good as dead. There is nothing I can do to prevent that, even if I wanted to. The Dark Lord has planned to ambush the Potters' house this evening! The Potters have been infiltrated even in spite of your precious Fidelius Charm!"

Dumbledore looked on as Snape clasped his hands over his mouth in horror and astonishment, unable to retract his words.

For once, Dumbledore looked worried. He got up from his chair and cast a powerful charm that bound Snape with invisible ropes. He did not wish for Snape to escape from Spinner's End, nor did he want Snape to reach for the Dark Mark on his arm to summon Lord Voldemort. He quickly contacted Minerva McGonagall to come and take care of his captive.

Quickly, he left Spinner's End and apparated into Godric's Hollow. However, by the time he arrived at the Potters' house, half of it had been blasted away. He ran inside the burnt remains and saw, to his dismay, that he was too late.

Lily Potter sat on the floor of the nursery, cradling Neville Longbottom. She was surrounded by lifeless bodies who were now adorned with almost indistinguishable faces covered in ash and dust. A tear trickled down from his eyes as he observed all of the deaths around him. He could have done more for them. He could have prevented all this, if only he had reached in time.

But it appeared that the danger was not over. The real threat was the witch standing over Lily and the baby, her wand poised for attack. Her dark, curly hair was as wild as her eyes, and she shrieked with the vile laughter of a madwoman.

 **A/N: There's a misconception that in canon the Fidelius charm suggested by Dumbledore was placed on the Potters' house, which creates the popular plot hole of why the Potters themselves didn't be their own secret keepers. However, when I did some further research, I was led to believe that the secret information protected inside of the Secret Keeper's soul was not on the Potters' location, but on the Potters themselves. This of course is unlike the charms on Grimmauld Place and Shell Cottage, which were cast on the locations themselves.**

 **Thank you for reading! Please leave a review!**


	4. Her Will to Please

_Bellatrix_

She had set out immediately to find the Longbottoms. Nothing pleased her more than serving her master, and she was truly honoured to be given such an important task. She knew she was going to succeed; she could taste the sweet essence of impending victory on her tongue. The Dark Lord would not be disappointed with her efforts to hunt down the baby. And then, when the deed was done, she could almost see herself sitting fervently at her master's side, gazing up into his majestic, smiling face. She would be rewarded like no other.

Of course, she was accustomed to fulfilling so many of the Dark Lord's orders. But this task was different. An inner fear had persisted in her heart. Her master had stressed on the urgency of the work she needed to do, and she knew that she could not fail him.

Subduing Frank and Alice Longbottom was no easy feat. The two of them were highly skilled aurors, and even though she considered herself the most formidable Death Eater – having learned complex magical spells from the Dark Lord himself – she could not risk going after the Longbottoms alone.

She was able to rally three other Death Eaters; her husband Rodolphus, her brother-in-law Rabastan, and an enthusiastic young man named Bartemius Crouch Jr. She encountered the fools going on an evening stroll in the beginning of August. The Longbottoms had undoubtedly put up a good fight, but they were no match for Bellatrix's prowess and her skill as a dueler. The four Death Eaters prisoned their victims in a celled room, and each of them took turns questioning their prey.

The Longbottoms were not willing to give any answers. Curses of the most disturbing kind were inflicted on them by each of the Death Eaters in turn, and Bellatrix felt a surge of glee upon hearing their screams each time. She took the lead and performed the Cruciatus Curse on them, willing it to give the sensation of their bones being aggressively torn away from their flesh.

The torture had continued for hours. Finally, after seeing his wife suffer for so long, Frank had begged them to stop. He had made them promise that if he gave them what they wanted, they would let his wife go.

Bellatrix had hungrily accepted his offer, for she had felt that time was being wasted. She could not afford to go to her master empty-handed. She had listened carefully to what Frank had said, but it was not enough.

He was the caster of a Fidelius charm, an ancient magical spell that concealed the Longbottom family from the Dark Lord. But he was not the secret keeper, and therefore could not disclose where Neville was.

"You are lying!" Bellatrix screamed, before yelling "Crucio!" once again. "If you are not the secret keeper, then maybe your wife is!" She turned to Alice and pointed the wand at her.

"No, not Alice! She has nothing to do with this! She is not the secret keeper!" His words didn't stop her from inflicting more damage on Alice Longbottom. His wife groaned in agony as the curse hit her, her body starting to shake as if she had an epileptic fit.

"No!" Frank screamed, "I'm telling you the truth! Neither Alice nor I is the secret keeper!"

"Then who is it?" demanded Bellatrix.

"I – It doesn't matter. You will never find our Secret Keeper because she is staying at our house! You can't get to her!"

More screams followed as the four Death Eaters cast multiple curses simultaneously on the couple. "Then you will break the charm, or else your wife dies," Bellatrix threatened, her eyes wide with malice. "It was you who cast the Fidelius charm in the first place, no?"

"Y-y-yes," stuttered Frank. Frank stared at Alice and then bent his head sorrowfully. "Please promise me, if I tell you, please spare Alice!"

"Agreed." Bellatrix said with a solemn note in her voice.

She stopped her torture for a moment and turned her wand back to him. "Well, we don't have all day. Get on with it! Do you really want to see your wife suffer any more? I shall be more than glad to make that happen!"

"I will need my wand back," Frank said weakly.

"Do you take me for a fool?" Bellatrix replied. "I will not put a weapon in your hands! Now tell me, how do you break the charm?"

Frank looked at her in uncomfortable silence. "The only way for me to break the charm," he said, "Is if I die."

Bellatrix hooted. "Very well then, Longbottom. If you are willing to sacrifice your life to save your wife, then so be it!"

But before Bellatrix made her move to strike, Frank called out, "You still can't find him. He was with my mother in our house when you captured us, but I told her you might be coming! By the time you reach there, they would already be on the run!" Frank let out a short maniacal laugh, his eyes gleaming with madness.

Bellatrix turned to face him. "How could you have made contact? We had you trapped!"

"The Order has reliable ways of communicating information. We don't need to brand ourselves with the Dark Mark like you do!" He laughed again.

Avada Kedavra!" Bellatrix exclaimed, infuriated.

A flash of green light erupted from the tip of her wand, and Frank Longbottom's lifeless body sprawled in front of her in his cell. Bellatrix then turned to Alice.

"Now tell me," Bellatrix sneered, "Where is Neville Longbottom? Where is your mother-in-law going?"

Alice was both speechless and unable to move. She seemed lost and distant, as if the world had stopped.

"Crucio!"

Every muscle in Alice's body seemed to be pulled apart, and it snapped her back to focus for a moment. She began to sob in a high-pitched wail. Bellatrix pointed her wand at Alice again. "Crucio!" And this time, it felt as though the pain had doubled in its intensity.

Bellatrix was livid. She wanted to inflict so much pain on Alice Longbottom, for she could not take it out on anyone else. She felt the rage coursing through her veins, manifesting out of her wand and latching onto her victim. Alice writhed with unbearable anguish, her screams becoming louder and louder until it faded into silence. Alice's eyes began to water; she could not take it any longer.

Bellatrix watched as Alice finally succumbed and relaxed into a state of passiveness. The widow could now hardly speak. Bellatrix had tortured Alice into insanity, but could not decide if the driving factor was her own Cruciatus Curse, or Alice watching her husband die in front of her eyes. Frankly, she did not care.

Bellatrix and the other Death Eaters left Alice locked away in her cell as she stared soullessly at her husband's corpse.

* * *

Bellatrix stopped in front of the gateway. She could already feel the emptiness of the house. She ran hurriedly inside, but the occupants were gone. She was too late; for the first time in her life, she had failed her master. "NO!" she screamed. "NOOO!" She turned on the spot and vanished with a pop.

"My Lord, please, do not punish me! I tried, master, I tried so hard!" Bellatrix whimpered.

"Quiet, Bellatrix." The Dark Lord turned his back and she felt her world crumbling down around her. She accepted the punishment that followed, trying not to flinch.

* * *

She was seeking redemption. She had to capture the boy at any cost. Her resolve strengthened as she resumed hunting. After months of tireless struggle, she had finally made a mildly successful breakthrough.

Bellatrix had sent out a number of patrols, all geared towards capturing the evasive old woman. Augusta Longbottom was not the usual grandmotherly figure. She showed surprising resistance and cunning when Bellatrix cornered her as she tried to escape from a gang of Death Eaters she had just run into.

Bellatrix had initially underestimated her dueling ability. The woman was tough and agile, and at first, she was gaining the upper hand. When Augusta cut Bellatrix's face with a severing jinx in the ensuing duel, Bellatrix quickly turned sour, but then she burst out into a hysterical laugh. Eventually, the old lady's relatively slower reflexes got the better of her, and Bellatrix managed to shoot a stunning spell that hit Augusta squarely on her chest.

Now was her moment to shine once more. Ever since Snape brought news of the prophecy to her master, she felt a hint of jealousy. Could it be that the Dark Lord favored Snape over her? She had to admit that Snape did extremely well as a spy. Placing the Imperius curse on Pettigrew so as to gain access to the Order's plans was indeed an astute move, she thought.

An idea struck her. She had to make the most out of the meat of her newly-conquered prey. She could not let her efforts waste any longer. She realized her favorite tactics of torturing information out of her victims may not work this time; after all, it did not help her much when she had captured Frank and Alice.

She dragged Augusta back to the Malfoy Manor. "Ennervate!" she recited. Augusta's eyes began to open. Suddenly, with a brisk jump, she reached out to grab at Bellatrix who stepped away in time, laughing.

"Poor granny angry with me?" Bellatrix inquired mockingly. She flicked her wand and saw Augusta being thrown on her back against the hard floor, unable to get up, as though an invisible weight was applying pressure to her stomach and pinning her on the ground.

"Where is your baby grandson?" Bellatrix hissed.

"I'll never tell you!" Augusta spat at her.

"Oooh, poor granny hasn't been able to see her family again, has she? Your little Order friends couldn't find your son and daughter-in-law, could they? So you still cling on to hope that they might still be alive! Well, granny, let me clear all of your doubts for you!"

Bellatrix took Augusta's hand and smiled wickedly. They apparated into the dark cell where Bellatrix held Frank and Alice captive.

Bellatrix watched with vindictive pleasure as Augusta covered her hands and fell to her knees as she witnessed the horrible sight. The air smelled putrid with the decay of the two corpses.

A multitude of flies swarmed around both bodies, their buzzing lending a sense of sickening disgust to the dank room. Bellatrix drank in the atmosphere, and relished in Augusta's helplessness. She had deprived Alice of food and drink ever since she left her, and she now witnessed the result of that starvation.

She saw Augusta trying to advance closer to her dead son and daughter-in-law, in spite of the open sores scattered over their bodies, oozing a mixture of pus and blood. Bellatrix surmised that they were the result of the many cuts and injuries she inflicted on them during their torture.

When Bellatrix felt she had enough, she roughly grabbed Augusta's hand and pulled her away. She apparated with her back to her sister's manor. Augusta struggled to break free of her, spitting and yelling and screaming and cursing at her.

Bellatrix burst into a fit of laughter.

"Imperio!" The Unforgivable Curse struck Augusta Longbottom. Her eyes dilated and reverted back to normalcy, her face now inexpressive.

Bellatrix could tell that she was trying to fight the effects of the curse. "Imperio!" she cried again, forcing the curse to tap into Augusta's deepest desires. _Obey me and I will give you your son and daughter-in-law back. I shall restore them to their former glory. They will continue to be with you. They will make you prouder than ever before._

She could see Augusta starting to relax as she clung on to the false hope the curse had instilled in her. "Now tell me, where is Neville Longbottom?"

Augusta replied in a monotonic drawl, "I left him with his godmother, Lily Potter. But the Potters are protected by a Fidelius charm. The Dark Lord cannot harm them unless their Secret Keeper willingly tells him where they are."

"Are you the secret keeper, Augusta?" Bellatrix asked.

"I was the secret keeper for Frank and Alice," Augusta continued, "But not for the Potters."

Bellatrix curled her lips. "Well, as it is, I do not have to make a wild guess as to who the Potters picked for their secret keeper. I am fairly certain that the fools placed their trust in none other than my dear old, repulsive cousin." She grimaced at the thought of Sirius Black.

Bellatrix pondered for a moment. "It would be futile to have a crack at Black right now. I need to get what I want as soon as possible, and getting him to relay the secret to me would be next to impossible…"

She turned to look directly at her captive. "However," she mused, "There are other ways to infiltrate the Potters' house, without the use of a Secret Keeper."

When she had told the Dark Lord about the new plan she formulated, He had given her high praise. She felt an inordinate amount of satisfaction, and basked in what she thought was the most glorious moment of her life.

"I have a reward for you, Bellatrix," the Dark Lord said. "You have proven yourself worthy. I shall look past the mistakes you committed before." Her leader procured a small golden cup, and it glittered with magnificence in the faded light. She saw that it carried the distinctive emblem of Hufflepuff, a prancing black-coated badger.

"My Lord," Bellatrix responded, a bit confused, "I am honoured. But forgive me, my Lord, what should I do with this? I can see that this is a symbol of Helga Hufflepuff. Is this one of her heirlooms?"

"Yes, Bellatrix, it once was. This is now one of my most prized possessions, Bellatrix. I am entrusting it to you. It has magical powers that not even you have mastered. You must see to it that it is hidden away safely. I will emphasize that if you fail to do so, I will have to kill you. There is nothing more important than protecting this cup!"

"My Lord, I understand, and I swear to you that this cup will be locked away in the safest place in the world. No intruder will be able to get their hands on it. My Lord, I am truly glad that you have asked me to do this service, to have placed so much trust in me. All I want to do is be your most faithful servant."

The Dark Lord nodded and began to walk away. "Wait, my Lord!" Bellatrix said meekly. "Can you please tell me what magical properties are contained in this cup?"

Her master turned to her and said, "That information is too important for me to disclose, even to you, Bellatrix. But I will say that the cup can guarantee my constant presence in this world." And with that, the Dark Lord left the room.

* * *

Her plan, although successful in an unexpected way, did not help her master find the Potters. Snape had shown her up again, and Bellatrix had grunted with irritation. Here she was, producing results through raw skill and dedication, while he was able to sway the Dark Lord with sheer coincidental events.

On Halloween evening, Snape had somehow miraculously presented Peter Pettigrew to the Dark Lord. Bellatrix thought his timing was quite peculiar. How did Pettigrew, who had been in hiding for so long, become kidnapped again at this convenient moment?

"So, Severus, you have recaptured a whimpering, worthless buffoon!" Bellatrix sneered. "There is no way he can be of further use to us now, especially when my plan is already on the verge of succeeding!"

"On the contrary, Bella," Snape replied, his mouth twitching slightly. "I now know your plan very well, with everything that the Dark Lord has told me earlier today, as well as from what my little friend here has just informed me of. The only way for our master to achieve his gial is for him to go to the Potters' house himself. The plan you have concocted will not work, for there are other protective measures placed on the house, suggested by Dumbledore himself. Nobody can be forcefully taken away from that house."

"And how do you know this, Snape?" Bellatrix asked incredulously.

Snape took Pettigrew by his arm and dragged him forward. "I know James Potter and all of his accomplices well. This one here only hides behind those who are smarter, more popular and more talented than he is. He craves to be like those who are always getting the attention, but he could never be like them. No, he was as good as an outcast, this one. He was never truly good enough to be in the company of the great James Potter, and he knew it. The rest of his so-called friends don't really acknowledge him as part of their special gang, for what can poor Peter Pettigrew ever achieve in life?"

She watched as Snape shoved Pettigrew closer to their master. "He is not under the Imperius Curse anymore, my Lord. I had resolved to recapture him for good this time so as to find out if he knew who the Potters' Secret Keeper was, but to my surprise he accompanied me willingly. What he is about to say is with a free tongue."

"What would a lowly scum like this have to say to me?" questioned the Dark Lord. "M-my Lord," Peter said, quivering with fear, "I have come to pledge my loyalty to you. I want to help you, my Lord. O Great One, I am the Potters' secret keeper."

"You can't trust him, my Lord!" Bellatrix cried. "What about my plan?"

"Hush, Bellatrix." Her master held up his hand and Bellatrix fell silent.

Peter bowed, subjugating himself in front of the Dark Lord. "My Lord, I am here to willingly give you the location of the Potters' house, if you would accept me into your inner ranks of Death Eaters. I swear that I will serve you with all my heart."

* * *

She had just returned from securing her master's gift to her. Suddenly, she felt the Dark Mark burn as if it was just freshly branded onto her skin, and she nearly passed out from the pain. In the aftermath, she knew it was over. The skull-like tattoo gradually faded into obscurity, and her arm felt cold and numb. The Dark Lord had fallen.

"MASTER, NO! DON'T LEAVE ME!" Bellatrix bawled. Her knees gave in and she succumbed to her grief. After ten minutes of perennial sobbing, she wiped her tears. Her eyes turned from an expression of sorrow to one of vengeance. They will pay for this, she thought.

She apparated to Godric's Hollow and advanced toward the remains of the Potters' house, now visible to her. The Fidelius Charm had clearly been broken. She flew upstairs to the nursery and pointed her wand at the survivors. The only thing on her mind now was murder, and nothing was going to stand in her way.

 **A/N: To be continued. In canon, there is implicit evidence that the Fidelius Charm is broken only when the caster (not the secret keeper) dies. This is seen when James and Lily (one of which we can assume was the caster) died. However, when the secret keeper dies, the secret itself dies with them, or if the secret is shared with others, they become secret keepers in turn.**

 **I know the title of the story may seem confusing, but the main plot hasn't started just yet. I need to explain the events leading up to Lily's encounter with Lord Voldemort before I get there. But I will, eventually :)**

 **Thanks for reading, please review!**


	5. At Godric's Hollow

_Albus_

Bellatrix towered over Lily and the child, like a black chess piece ready to execute a checkmate. Even as he watched her outline, he couldn't deny that she looked confident and formidable, a dark queen eager to unleash the power everyone knew and dreaded. From afar, he saw her lips starting to move before the words could be born from her tongue.

With lightning speed, Dumbledore summoned the rubble around him - chunks of concrete, jagged stones, pieces of charred wood, exposed lengths of steel – and morphed it into a giant orb. He hurled it across the room, just in time to act as a barrier between Lily and Bellatrix before the green light hit its mark. The mass of debris shattered into a thousand pieces as the curse reached it, and for a few moments the house rained with little flecks of powdered dust.

Bellatrix looked up from the fog after the ensuing blast had cleared. "Dumbledore!" she screamed, her voice trembling with hatred. She ignored the helpless woman who was still weeping on the floor.

"Avada Kedavra!" A jet of green light shot from her wand, now in Dumbledore's direction. But he was comfortably nimble, and he disapparated before the curse could reach him. With a faint pop, he apparated next to Lily and the baby, with Bellatrix standing just a few feet away. Scowling, Bellatrix aimed her wand at him again and screamed, "Crucio!"

Dumbledore countered with a protection charm, briefly illuminating the place with a blurry, white light. The spell was so powerful that it knocked Bellatrix off her feet, sending her flying until she hit the ground. Dumbledore used the time to immobilize Lily and the baby. The traumatized woman only looked up at him with wonder and awe, unable to say a word.

"You won't win, Dumbledore!" Bellatrix cackled as she sprung back up to her feet. "The Dark Lord will return some day! Dumbledore pointed his wand at her and moved it with fierce efficiency. He summoned spell after spell and jinx after jinx, which flew relentlessly in Bellatrix's direction. Subconsciously, he wanted to drive her back as far away as possible from Lily and Neville.

He had to admit that she was a fearsome dueler. She parried, countered and dodged his attacks with an almost mocking grace. He sent curses flying after her and she retreated further away, but somehow, she still managed to keep her form. Her laughter echoed as she sent one of his jinxes ricocheting back at him. _She is enjoying this,_ he thought.

He tried to disarm her on more than one occasion, but he saw that she was prepared. She deflected every jinx that he threw at her. It became clear that her master taught her well. She was apparently also skilled at Occlumency, for he found that it was difficult to read her mind and decipher what move she was going to make next.

Why was it so difficult for him to overpower her? He had disarmed and apprehended Snape with normalcy earlier that evening, so why did Bellatrix pose such difficulty? And even if she was using Occlumency, so what? Wasn't he a proficient Legilimens? After all, he had proven that he could defeat the most accomplished Occlumens even with his eyes closed. He had known about Snape's interesting gift for a long time, and now that he was dueling Bellatrix, he thought that her ability to block her mind was not as strong as that of the greasy-haired wizard.

Bellatrix pointed her wand at Dumbledore and another jet of green light flew at him, but he shielded it within milliseconds. The reason for his lackluster performance suddenly dawned on him. He was flooded with emotion from the recent tragedy that evening, and he could not think straight. He had let his guard down, unknowingly letting Bellatrix probe into his own mind. How foolish of him! Didn't he know that grief was his greatest weakness?

Years ago, he had promised himself that he would not love anyone again lest he hurt them, and for a time he had been so successful. Now he had let his love take advantage of him again, and when he saw the deaths that evening, he was back in the same position he was in the day he lost his mother and sister. The past had now come back to haunt him; there was no escaping it. The fault was his, and he had to live with the regret. He just kept on making the same mistakes, time and time again.

The members of the Order of the Phoenix had stood by his side willingly, but in the end, he was responsible for them. For every comrade murdered, Dumbledore blamed no one else but himself. He was the one who rallied them, trained them, loved them. And then tonight, he witnessed the deaths of two of his bravest companions, and his heart melted at the sight of their still corpses. How could he have been so cruel to them? He should have done more, for if he couldn't offer protection for the men and women who voluntarily risk their lives fighting alongside him, what was his true purpose?

And the child, _oh goodness, the child_! Harry didn't deserve to die. Such an innocent soul lost forever, and it was all because of his neglect. Only he, Albus Dumbledore, was to blame for the destruction of an entire family, for how could Lily ever recover from this ordeal?

But no more, he thought. Now is not the time to mourn. He freed his mind from the shackles of guilt, and then stared directly beyond Bellatrix's wild eyes. He drove her backward with a robust hex, and she flew down from the remains of the house and onto the yard. Without waiting to give her opportunity to strike, he descended elegantly from the nursery to engage her in continued combat.

Finally, it seemed as though Bellatrix was losing her edge. Her form was becoming less composed, and she wasn't shrieking with gleeful craziness any longer. He could see that she was putting up a hectic fight to defend herself now. "Expelliarmus!" Her wand flew out of her hand and landed about ten feet away in front of her. He conjured a bundle of invisible ropes that wrapped itself around her, slowly squeezing her waist like a python constricting its prey.

Bellatrix was evidently in pain from the tightness of the rope, but she looked at him with hateful arrogance. "You can send me to Azkaban, but know this, Dumbledore! My master will return, and I will be the one to see him do it! He has magic that you, Dumbledore, cannot compete with! He has already entrusted me with the means by which he will do it, and there is no stopping him!"

Dumbledore stared at her and saw images flashing before him, but they were bedazzled by the pride and faith she had swamped her mind with. But then, finally, one scene sharpened from the blurry haze. It was an outline of Bellatrix proudly bowing low before her master. She held a golden cup above her head with reverence, her hands clasped around its handles as though in prayer. He could see the distinct mark of the badger, and suddenly his heart filled with dread.

 _Could it be? Was this the way Tom had decided to use his dark magic to cheat death? Why entrust such an important artefact to one of his servants? Surely this could not be the only one he created? But how is it possible for there to be more? Could there really be more? How many more?_

He saw that Bellatrix did not know the truth about the cup, and breathed a sigh of relief. But he had let his thoughts lead him astray from the matter in front of him, and by the time he reacted, Bellatrix had already bellowed out, "ACCIO WAND!"

Her wand shot up from the ground and returned to her grasp, and in the blink of an eye, she freed herself from the ropes and disapparated.

Dumbledore turned back and entered the remains of the nursery, knowing that it was futile to go after Bellatrix now. He had to make sure that Lily and the child were safe. As soon as he lifted the spell he immobilized them with, Lily got up and placed her free arm around him in a warm, welcoming hug. And then she started to cry, her face buried in his long, white beard.

He stood there for several minutes without interrupting, just letting Lily pour all her emotions out. He knew he had let her down, but somehow, she still looked up to him with such an unbounded amount of respect. He did not deserve it. While she cried, he drank in the evidence of destruction that occurred. His knees almost turned to water when he looked at the tranquil baby in the crib.

"Lily," Dumbledore said, "We must leave here now. It isn't safe here anymore. You are still in great danger."

"But I can't leave them here – not like this!" Lily cried. She took a long hard look at the crib, and then at the two bodies strewn on the remains of the floor.

"Why did she come here? How did she get mixed up in all this?" Dumbledore asked sadly, gesturing at the corpse in front of her.

"She t-t-tried to p-protect us," Lily replied, fresh tears welling up in her eyes. She took a few minutes to regain her composure as best as she could.

Dumbledore peered into the bundle of blankets Lily was holding. "Lily, how long were you taking care of Neville? Why didn't you tell me he was here at Godric's Hollow? He shouldn't have been here."

"I'm sorry Dumbledore," Lily said, "But Augusta made me promise not to tell anyone. I made a vow to her that I would do my level best to protect Neville and keep him safe. It was the least I could do after what happened to his parents."

"But I thought she on the run from the Death Eaters," Dumbledore remarked. "I sent out some of our best members of the Order to find her. Everyone thought that she died! Surely she would have tried to reach out to us if she was still alive!"

Lily replied, "Well, she came to us a few weeks ago. She knew where we were, of course, even though we had cast the Fidelius Charm, just as you suggested to us before you left the country. But she looked awful, Dumbledore! She was so tired and afraid! I begged her to stay with us, but she refused."

"But why was she willing to continue running? Didn't she know that the Order would have hidden her and protected her?" Dumbledore asked.

"She was hellbent on finding Frank and Alice," Lily said. "She didn't believe they were…gone. She thought that the Death Eaters had them locked away somewhere. She knew everyone would have tried to prevent her from going on this wild-goose chase, so she told me she had to do this alone!"

"And so, she left you to take care of Neville while she went on her quest," Dumbledore suggested.

Lily nodded. "All she wanted to do was protect Neville. She told us that a few Death Eaters were already on her trail, and if she stayed for too long, they would find us at Godric's Hollow, and then it would be her fault for endangering all of us. I didn't want her to go, but she was such a stubborn lady! She left Neville with us and hurried off, and then there was nothing else I could have done to stop her. Oh Dumbledore, I should have stopped her!"

"There was nothing else you could have done, Lily," Dumbledore said.

"But I failed to keep my promise, Dumbledore!" Lily went on. "He knew that both of them were here!" Lily froze in horror as the realization hit her. "I thought the Fidelius charm would have been enough to protect us!"

"Yes, Lily, I thought so too. In theory, it should have worked." Dumbledore said. "But it seems that your secret keeper betrayed you. I would never imagine that Sirius could have done such a thing."

"If Sirius was our secret keeper, he would have never betrayed us! James and I were fools, Dumbledore!" Lily sobbed. "We should have stuck to our decision to have Sirius as our secret keeper. But he forced us to put our faith in Peter! I can't believe Pettigrew could sell us out to the Dark Lord! How could he have done this?"

"We don't have time to think about these things," Dumbledore urged. "We need to move to a safer place."

But there's still something I don't understand," Lily said. "How did Neville defeat You-Know-Who?"

"I'm afraid I don't fully know. Lily, it is vital that you tell me every detail that happened tonight when Lord Voldemort arrived. But first, we must leave here now!"

"Wait! How can I just leave them here without saying goodbye? I have to at least bury them!"

Lily looked pleadingly at him, her face resolute. Finally, Dumbledore nodded. He levitated the three corpses out of the nursery and all the way to the cemetery. The bodies glistened in the eerie moonlight as they hovered over the streets, and one by one, the villagers gathered in a procession and followed. The wee hours of the morning were approaching, but all of Godric's Hollow was awake. The fall of the Dark Lord did nothing to quench the sorrow they felt. They tried to offer words of comfort to Lily, and she accepted them without truly listening to what they said. Her head was bent as she staggered towards the graveyard, her eyes fixed on Neville who now lay asleep in her arms.

When they arrived amongst the forest of tombs, Dumbledore flicked his wand and a neat clearing emerged. Three new tombs stood there, with freshly dug rectangular holes that were six feet deep. Dumbledore guided James into the largest one. Next, he summoned Harry, gently laying him into the adjacent grave that was barely a half foot wide and one foot long. Finally, he placed the last body into the grave about five meters away. He had told Lily that the body shouldn't have been buried in Godric's Hollow. Her savior didn't live in the village after all. But Lily insisted that it didn't matter to her. And when the villagers heard about what happened, they too wanted to honour her here. Now Dumbledore had no choice but to oblige. Lily stared at her loved ones for the last time, wishing that time would not move forward. Dumbledore offered her his hand, and she took it in a gentle squeeze. He watched Lily's husband, his hair still as messy as the day he first met him at Hogwarts. He tried to gaze down at Harry, but he turned away quickly. His eyes stung every time he plucked up enough courage to face the lifeless baby, and it felt as though he was staring directly at the sun. It was simply too painful for him. Finally, he turned and looked at Lily's savior, her corpse old and thin and frail, as though already waiting eagerly to turn into dust.

When Lily finally had her fill, Dumbledore motioned his wand with a final gesture and the remaining dirt came cascading down, settling over the three graves like brown blankets. The crowd that gathered there sang their farewells in solemn tones, their Christian hymns ringing through the cold morning air.

 **A/N: Thanks for reading, please review!**


	6. The Sacrifice

_Augusta_

Bellatrix's plan to use Augusta as a puppet, similar to what Snape had done with Pettigrew, was straightforward. All of the members of the Order thought she was still on the run, still evading capture. Once Augusta was caught, Bellatrix had searched her thoroughly and found a talisman engraved with a phoenix that members of the Order were using to communicate with each other. She took it away and instead enchanted it to suit her needs.

Bellatrix had let Augusta out into the world again, knowing that nobody would think she had been taken in the first place. But the Imperius Curse was still on her, and Bellatrix had made sure that it was powerful enough. She had brought Augusta to the Dark Lord Himself. At first, He was curious about the woman, but when Bellatrix explained her plan to Him, He immediately offered to strengthen the Imperius Curse on Augusta even further. Now, Bellatrix was certain that Augusta would truly be bound to follow the Dark Lord's commands, for no one else in the world could match His power. There was no way for Augusta to break a curse the Dark Lord Himself had cast.

The Dark Lord instructed Augusta to beg the Potters to see her grandson, and made her feign sadness, weakness and loneliness. It was Halloween, the day of the christening ceremony. The church was heavily guarded by aurors in the Order, and several concealment charms were protecting it. Luckily for the Dark Lord, Augusta had known when and where the ceremony was taking place. Alice and Lily were planning it in detail during their later months of pregnancy for both Harry and Neville, and Augusta was always eager to chip in with the preparations.

Augusta approached the church with a dirty and haggard demeanor, as if she had just gone through a huge tribulation. Upon seeing her, the aurors outside ran to her aid, not even bothering to use any of the usual security checks. They were only concerned with the unhealthy appearance of what seemed like a frail woman in desperate need to return to the Order. Everyone in the Order had tried to look for her, but when she was not found, she was presumed dead. She informed them that she had finally given up hope in her search for Frank and Alice, and had now come to her senses.

She stepped inside the church and greeted the Potters. She could feel the people's laughter, smiles and relief that she was alright, and that she had returned to them at last. Together, she and the Potters christened both Harry and Neville.

The Dark Lord had the charisma to greatly persuade, and he deftly beckoned it in Augusta's actions. The Potters took pity on her, even offering for her to stay with them so that she would not be on the run anymore. The fools couldn't think of letting the poor old woman suffer from such an insecure way of living, especially at her age.

The Dark Lord had Augusta Longbottom accept the Potters' offer. The old woman was absorbed into their household, now sharing the protection of the Fidelius charm with them.

The moment Augusta agreed to stay, the Potters had Peter over for tea. They explained that Peter Pettigrew was the Secret Keeper, and urged him to divulge the secret to her, which he did after much prodding from James and Lily. But Pettigrew had left the Potters' house in haste that evening.

Augusta had performed Lord Voldemort's bidding well. It was through her that the Dark Lord was able to discover that Harry Potter was also born at the end of July, as well as other important information about the Order. The Dark Lord now knew that Dumbledore had gone to seek foreign aid. Everywhere, members of the Order were actively trying to teach their neighbours how to defend themselves in case Death Eaters came for them. The Order was slowly strengthening ties with the Ministry of Magic. They encouraged the Daily Prophet to publish extensive updates on the Dark Lord and his Death Eaters' latest attacks.

She had tried a countless number of times that day to break the Fidelius Charm on the Potters' house. When she was first welcomed for tea, she had attempted to send an inscription of the Potters' whereabouts on the talisman Bellatrix had given her. But as soon as the marks were engraved on the metal, it vanished. She had no other option but to report her failure on the object instead.

However, Bellatrix did not appear to be bothered. Bellatrix urged her to devote her full attention to the primary mission. Only the Secret Keeper could relay the hidden information about the Potters, and that secret was still encased in Pettigrew's soul. Even if Pettigrew died thereby making Augusta a Secret Keeper as well, she still couldn't give up the Potters. Bellatrix knew the power of the Fidelius Charm, and she told Augusta that a Secret Keeper could not be tortured or forced to reveal their secret, even under the Cruciatus or Imperius Curse.

The evening was getting darker now, inviting the sense of drowsy relaxation. Harry's parents settled on the couch, and were soon fast asleep downstairs. They had both come down with a minor cold, and Augusta had forced them to make themselves comfortable in the living room while she tended to the babies upstairs in the nursery.

But Bellatrix was patiently waiting for an opportunity like this, for a chance to have the Potters out of the way, for Augusta to be alone with the babies. Bellatrix's ultimate plan was for Augusta to kidnap them and bring them to the Dark Lord.

Augusta crept into the room, about to take the babies up from their crib. She had begun to reach for Harry. When she picked him up, he woke and looked at her with wide green eyes.

Then, abruptly, the air turned cold. She quickly put Harry back down. She could hear the baby starting to cry now. Her plan was failing… She pulled out her wand, intent on killing the two babies right then and there. But the Killing Curse, requiring such immense hateful emotion, was lacking in Augusta's manipulated body. The Imperius Curse was not strong enough to force her to use her wand for this, for that kind of magic needed to come from her own willpower and not just her body.

The air was getting colder still. She went to the window, and looked down at a figure in a black cloak. The intruder had flung the window open with his wand as he rose up toward the nursery, his serpent-like face becoming more and more distinct as he drew nearer inside.

Augusta welcomed him with robotic monotony. She watched as the Dark Lord cast the Killing Curse on Harry, and paid no heed when James fell on his belly, dead as well. She watched impassively as the Dark Lord and Lily stared at each other, and made no attempt to move when Lily scrambled Neville in her arms.

Then, she felt a warm feeling of euphoria gently washing down on her, and a sweet, serene voice saying: _take the child._ She had no choice but to follow the Dark Lord's instruction, helpless under the Imperius Curse that had been controlling her. If her son was still alive, she would have probably been able to fight it off. But alas, it was not so. It felt better to lose control of her feelings than to suffer with the terrible loss. She knew she should have been proud of Frank and Alice's courage, but it was exceedingly difficult for her to stay as strong as she wanted to.

She approached Lily and stooped down to reach her level. She reached out to grab at the baby, her hands exerting great force. But Lily did not budge. She tried again, but her attempt to take away the child was still futile. Lily had clung to the child as if her life (or his) depended on it.

"Please, you don't want to do this. I know you don't." Lily's words clanged in her ears, and she bent down to look at Neville. Her grandson was wrapped tightly in a cotton blanket, observing her with piercing, innocent eyes.

He has his father's eyes, a voice in the back of her mind said. The voice grew stronger as she continued to watch the baby, and heartache made her chest swell with a plethora of emotion. She missed her son so badly. She desperately wanted to join him. She looked at Lily. The voice inside her reminded her that she was looking at a mother. A mother just like Alice was. A mother who was sacrificing so much for Alice's child. A mother who was not giving up, even though her own son, and the love of her life, were dead. She wished she could be strong like that.

She turned to look at Neville once again. _My son and daughter-in-law live on in him._ Her heart began to fill with fierce love for the child, and for Lily. She must protect them at all costs. Slowly, she began to let go of her grip on Lily. She was now finally able to break the Imperius Curse.

She stood up, lodging herself between the Dark Lord and his targets. She did not even bother to raise her wand, for she knew that there was no escape from her fate. She could see the tension on the Dark Lord's face. Augusta knew that he did not wish to harm her. His esteem for her competence and usefulness had surely grown when he found out about the birth of Harry Potter, through her.

She was sure that he did not want such a valuable asset he saw in her to go to waste. He was confident that his Imperius Curse would have her under his influence. But she knew what had to be done. "Stand aside!" the Dark Lord ordered. But he was unable to control her now. She was free at last, even though there was no escape.

She shook her head in rebellion as he urged her with another warning. Finally, she saw him point his wand at her, and she mentally prepared herself. Her last thought before the green light struck her chest was that she would finally get to see her son again.

 **A/N: Okay, so I hope this was a good pay-off for the first five chapters. A major theme in this story is motherly love, and I really hope I did this chapter justice. I know it's a short chapter, but the next one will be much longer and will finally set up the actual premise for the main story line.**

 **Thanks for reading, please review!**


	7. The Potions Master

_Lily_

She adjusted her eyes to the whiteness of the room she was sleeping in. It felt warm and cozy, and the feeling was aided by the soft patter of raindrops against the shuttered windows. She looked around and observed a series of beds all lined up neatly against the wall, and saw that she was occupying the one at the very end, close to the doorway.

She heard a knock on the door, but was too feeble to speak. After some time, Dumbledore carefully walked in, his arms gently cradling Neville. He lay the baby down beside her. The little warmth Neville exerted next to her made Lily smile for the first time since her ordeal.

"Thank you for saving my life, Dumbledore," Lily said. She glanced around the room once again. "It's nice to be back after all these years. Where is Madame Pomfrey?"

"I asked her for some privacy for a little while. There is much we need to discuss, Lily."

Lily watched as Neville tried to roll over closer to her. She never really liked staying in the hospital wing at Hogwarts, but now it felt somewhat comforting. She had slept dreamlessly for as long as she could remember; Madame Pomfrey had given her one of her special potions. She had drunk it eagerly, for she was so tired, but was also terrified of falling asleep. She needed a break from enduring the pain. She felt as though nightmares, if she experienced them, would have only given her just watered-down turmoil when compared to the reality she constantly faced when she was awake. But they would cause her to suffer all the same, and she needed some peace.

Dumbledore began, "Firstly, let me say how deeply sorry I am, Lily. I should have done better to protect Harry. I thought that what I did would have been enough, but it clearly wasn't."

Lily didn't say anything. The silence in the room went on for a few minutes, until it was punctuated by the loud booming of fireworks outside.

"Everyone is celebrating Lord Voldemort's downfall," Dumbledore said, noticing Lily's confused expression. "The news of his death has spread quickly. The owls are flying in broad daylight, and wizards are walking about on the streets in their robes. The muggles were rather taken aback when they observed some of these strange occurrences."

"I guess everyone has a lot to be happy for," Lily said in a small voice, and she tried to turn away from Dumbledore's penetrating eyes.

"Lily, what is most curious," Dumbledore said, as if nothing happened, "Is that they are celebrating little Neville here. Everywhere, they are raising their glasses and toasting to him. No one has ever survived the mark of the killing curse before him. They say he's the boy who lived."

Lily looked at Neville, and tried to hold back her tears once more. "Why, Dumbledore? Why did he come for us?" she sobbed. "Now I will n-never be able to hold my son and h-hear his little heart b-beating again! Harry didn't do anything to deserve this! Why did You-Know-Who kill him?"

Dumbledore observed Lily, a desperate, haggard woman now with matted hair and creases on her forehead. "When you told us to cast the Fidelius Charm, we obeyed you without question. We thought he was after us alone. I knew we and the Longbottoms had antagonized him recently, and there was no doubt he marked us as prime targets and wanted to finish us off. But we never imagined that You-Know-Who was after our Harry! We had put our trust in you, Dumbledore. But now, the consequences have come too far for me to remain ignorant. I need to know the reason why the Dark Lord killed my son!"

With a sigh, Dumbledore began his explanation. "Lily, five months ago, it was prophesied that a child with the ability to conquer Lord Voldemort will be born. This child would be birthed at the end of July, by parents who have stood against the Lord Voldemort on three occasions. From the minute I heard the prophecy, I felt a sense of hope. Could this child be the answer? We have been waging war on the Dark Lord for too long, and we have suffered tremendously. I needed to protect the child, if he was truly the key to winning the war and ending this madness for good. However, as July ended, both Neville and Harry were born a day apart. Both Neville and Harry had parents who were in the Order, and who have foiled Lord Voldemort three times before giving birth to a son. Who, then, was the true beacon which the prophecy foretold could mark the end of Lord Voldemort's reign? Which child really was the Chosen One? I didn't want to tell anyone about the prophecy until I could ascertain who it was. Lily, you must believe that I thought I was the only one who knew about the prophecy, and I wanted to keep it that way until I had a solid plan. And then, on the other side of the coin, the prophecy could have been a curse. What if Lord Voldemort won the war? The prophecy stated that neither can live while the other survives. What if Lord Voldemort destroyed the Chosen One, after all the hope and expectation that would have been shouldered onto him for his entire life? If I had told you about the prophecy, it would have changed everything. The Chosen One would have never been allowed to live a normal life. Think of the burden he would have faced if everyone knew the potentially dark future ahead of him; think of the despair he would feel knowing that only he could be the one to end it all!"

"You should have told us everything from the beginning, Dumbledore," Lily said. "If Frank and Alice had known about the true reason why you told them to protect themselves, they would have been more careful."

Dumbledore nodded. "I know, Lily. I know. Everything that has happened is all my fault. But I only kept these secrets to ensure everyone's safety, especially Neville and Harry. I see now that it was the wrong thing to do, and my attempts have failed."

Lily's anger at Dumbledore subsided as she looked up at Dumbledore, who now looked so old and vulnerable. There wasn't any warmth or twinkle in his eyes now.

"Lily, remember when I told you that it was imperative to tell me everything that occurred last night?" Dumbledore asked. "I believe that the time has now come for you to do so. I know it is difficult for you, but it is of the utmost importance that you find the courage to say what happened."

Lily tried to sit up. After propping herself against several pillows, she took a breath. Recounting the events that night was the last thing she wanted to do. Her breathing was heavy; she felt exhausted now. She unwillingly stared into the serene blue eyes which now quietly observed her, and she finally began the tale, her heart returning back to calm beating. At first, it took great effort for the words to come. Gradually, however, her story flowed, and she felt as though something toxic was being siphoned off of her. When she was done, she sank back into the pillows, exhausted once again.

"Thank you, Lily," Dumbledore said. "Thank you for being so brave."

Lily smiled wanly and was about to go back to sleep when Dumbledore spoke again.

"Back at Godric's Hollow, you asked me why Neville survived the killing curse. I can only offer educated guesses, but my guesses are usually good."

Lily's interest now piqued. Dumbledore's voice was soothing and warm, like a gentle breeze swaying over her.

"Lily, I think the reason why Neville is alive today is because of a powerful and ancient magic that Lord Voldemort both fears and doesn't understand. It is for this reason why Neville was bestowed with power that the Dark Lord does not know, as cited in the prophecy. I'm referring, of course, to the power of love."

Lily frowned in bewilderment. She gestured for Dumbledore to continue his explanation.

"My theory is that when Augusta stood in front of you and Neville, she voluntarily sacrificed herself to save the both of you. With this sacrifice, she imbued a protection spell onto you and Neville. While this magical protection runs in your veins, Lord Voldemort cannot directly harm you. Hence, when Lord Voldemort tried to kill Neville, the curse backfired on him. The mark that remains of his attack is this lightning-bolt scar on his forehead here," Dumbledore said, motioning his hand toward Neville.

Lily thought hard about this. "So," she said, "if James and I had reached in time to give up our lives to save Harry, would he have been given this magical protection too?"

"It could have perhaps been possible," Dumbledore replied. "It seems as though it wouldn't have made a difference if James had sacrificed himself. You see, I am fairly certain that Lord Voldemort planned to kill James regardless of any action taken by your husband. The key thing that you must realize is that Lord Voldemort never intended to kill Augusta in the first place. You told me that he ordered her to move out of his way many times, but she refused. He thought he could have controlled her with his Imperius curse. But again, he underestimated the power of love, and so he couldn't accept that it was this power that enabled her to break free from his control. You see, Lily, she was given a choice. If she had obeyed Lord Voldemort's wishes, she would not have died that night. Instead, however, she deliberately chose to die, despite Voldemort's original intention of sparing her life. It was this choice that enabled the invocation of the protection spell."

"He wanted to spare my life as well," Lily said. "I don't understand why. He didn't use the killing curse on me. He repeatedly told me to stand aside, but I couldn't. I couldn't stand there and watch Neville die, without doing anything. When he tried to kill Neville, he put me under a body-bind curse. If only I had reached in time to save Harry! I would have gladly given up my own life for him, just as Augusta did! Both Neville and Harry could have been saved if I had only just reached in time! Why didn't he try to kill me, Dumbledore?"

"Because Severus Snape requested him to have mercy on you," Dumbledore replied simply.

"Sev?" Lily asked in wonder.

"Snape is locked away in Azkaban now," Dumbledore said. Lily's face tightened, but then she gave a stiff nod. She knew that the Sev she became friends with when they were children was long gone ever since he chose to affiliate himself with his Death Eater pals, and she was certain that she would never get him back.

Lily then devoted her attention to Neville, who was now sleeping peacefully at her side. "Does this mean now that the prophecy has finally come to fruition? Was Neville really meant to be the Chosen One? Why did You-Know-Who want to kill both Harry and Neville? Didn't the prophecy refer to only one child?"

"Lord Voldemort did not know exactly who the prophecy was referring to, but he somehow knew enough to verify that there were only two possible candidates, Neville and Harry," Dumbledore explained. "At first, he went after Neville. But notice that he didn't go himself; he sent Bellatrix to attack the Longbottoms that night. He didn't want to risk marking the child as his equal, with his own hand, as the prophecy stated he would do."

"But he still ended up going after Neville by himself," Lily interjected.

"My guess is that this means he didn't know about Harry at the time," Dumbledore said. "However, when he found out about your son, he decided to execute his actions himself. Admittedly, the loophole he found was quite clever. If he was to kill both Harry and Neville, with the deliberate intention of treating both of them as potential threats, then theoretically he would never mark any one child as his equal. But Lord Voldemort was arrogant, Lily. He did not dream of being defeated that night. If he had the slightest reservation that he perhaps would not succeed, he wouldn't have come to your house himself. He thought he would have accomplished his goal. He could never imagine a baby defeating him."

"So, he's really gone for good then?" Lily asked. "Did Neville really vanquish him as the prophecy stated he might do?"

"To everyone, it would seem so," Dumbledore said carefully. "I, however, have some doubts. I wish I could tell you that Lord Voldemort is truly dead. But now, we have come to the most pressing issue at hand. I don't think he died that night, Lily. In fact, we must prepare ourselves. Do not take Bellatrix's words lightly. She was confident that her master would rise again."

The atmosphere became still now. Outside, the festivities were coming to an end, and the noise gradually faded. Night was approaching, and people were retiring back to their houses.

"Lily, I fear that Lord Voldemort, over the years, has developed mechanisms to secure immortality. I got a glimpse of something when I peered into Bellatrix's mind as we dueled that night. I could be wrong, but I think that Lord Voldemort has succeeded in creating something incredibly dangerous and –

Just then, the door opened and an old man with a good-natured face burst through, his round belly spilling out in front of him.

For a moment, Lily thought she saw a flicker of fear in his eyes the moment he entered the room, but his face instantly radiated joviality when he looked at her.

"Lily!" Horace Slughorn boomed, "Thank goodness you're safe! I had to see for myself. When I heard what happened, and when I learnt that you were in Hogwarts, I had to come and see you immediately!"

Lily smiled politely at him. He hadn't changed at all since she was a student at Hogwarts.

"Thanks for coming, Horace," Dumbledore said, "But if you will excuse us, Lily needs a little privacy right now. Perhaps you can check up on her a little bit later?"

"Oh but of course! Of course! I'm so sorry to disturb you. I just got so excited, and it's like a fever that's spreading in everyone since…since…you know," Slughorn trailed off. "Is it really true, then, Dumbledore? Has the Dark Lord really been defeated?" Slughorn stepped forward and leaned over, trying to peer at Neville who was now tucked near Lily's side. His eyes gleamed with a sticky sort of reverence.

"Yes, Slughorn, it appears so to many," Dumbledore said. "But, alas, as I was just telling Lily, I still cling to my doubts about Lord Voldemort being truly gone. You and I both know that he has sought to learn the darkest arts in an attempt to live forever, and goodness knows whether or not he succeeded. No, Slughorn, I think it's very possible that Lord Voldemort can return, maybe not now, maybe not in five years or ten, but I can only guess that he's still out there somewhere, weakened from the curse that backfired on him that night."

Lily watched as Slughorn shifted uneasily on his feet, his anxious face now turning a slight shade of red. Beads of sweat were starting to gather on his forehead, and he wiped them with the back of his hand hastily.

"Er - well yes, Dumbledore, I guess I better get going then; I've interrupted long enough. Lily, it was so nice to see you after such a long time. I promise to come and chat with you some other time, alright? Apologies once again," Slughorn replied nervously, and made his way to the exit.

Lily pointed her wand to the doorway and was about to mutter "Colloportus", when Dumbledore rested his hand on her arm. "It's not necessary, Lily. I think you've been through enough today. Get some rest. I, meanwhile, have some business with Slughorn that I must now attend to."

A few minutes later, Dumbledore left the hospital wing and Madame Pomfrey entered. Lily gulped her sleeping potion and drifted off, dreaming nothing but blackness.

* * *

Days turned to weeks, and then to a month, but Lily still couldn't leave the Hospital Wing. The emptiness inside of her gnawed at the very fabric of her skin, spitefully writhing against it as though wanting to emerge out of her body at last, but then continuously withdrawing itself back again into the depths of her heart.

She had felt a constant desire to see Dumbledore, and every day she would ask Madame Pomfrey for him. But the headmaster was either busy in his office for hours on end, or took such long and sporadic leaves from the castle, leaving everyone in the dark about what he was doing. On occasions like these, McGonagall was left as acting headmistress, and even she didn't seem to know anything, or even appeared interested in finding out Dumbledore's business.

Lily knew Dumbledore was keeping something from her. It was in his nature to reveal information if and only if they became relevant. She had always held a certain resentment for this particular behavior of his; the way he commanded a change of subject every time she or one of the other members of the Order tried to get more detail about their missions than the bare minimum they were told. What irritated her the most was the politeness and apparent innocence in which he did so; conversations regarding the most serious of matters were often downplayed as if they were simply discussing the weather.

However, a lot had happened in Hogwarts itself since Lily arrived. Many of her former teachers came to greet her, give her their wishes, and offer their sympathies for her loss. Professor Flitwick came by regularly to check up on her. He was thrilled to help look after Neville when Lily was resting, and offered to perform a cheering charm on her every time Lily looked forlorn. He enjoyed talking about Lily's time at Hogwarts, and constantly showered her with praises for her charm work and being a model student.

When Professor McGonagall was not busy, she would come to visit Lily at her bedside. Like Professor Flitwick, she too would reminisce about Lily's past school days, and all of the trouble her husband and his friends had gotten into. McGonagall had confessed to Lily that even though the Marauders had gotten on her nerves and she had to deal with prank after prank on a daily basis, she had grown somewhat fond of this routine and missed having them around after they had graduated. It had kept her frisk and busy, but when they left Hogwarts it was just never the same again.

"One time," McGonagall recalled, "James and Sirius, when they were in second year, had been so eager to try out for the Gryffindor Quidditch team. They had nagged me every day to let them attend tryouts, and I had countlessly denied them permission. They were merely too young and inexperienced, and not to mention cocky!"

"I remember," Lily smiled. "He thought that I would be impressed with him if he had made it through, but at that point I could have cared less if he had flown to Mars and back."

"Anyway, McGonagall continued, "They decided to prove that they had what it took, so they literally challenged me to a small Quidditch contest! If either one of them got the snitch, I would immediately grant them permission to apply for the team. But if I got it, then my decision would be final." McGonagall chuckled. "They didn't know what they were getting into! They thought I was old! Ha! I caught that snitch before any of them could even kick off from their brooms properly! They literally didn't see it coming!"

Both Lily and McGonagall burst out laughing, tears welling up in their eyes. And then Lily started sobbing in earnest, realizing that memories of James were the only things she could hold on to now. They were mere shadows of the past, and there would be no more to be made in the future. It hurt her to know that he would never again mess up his hair for her, never again laugh with her, never again be there for her when she needed him most...

And this was the time she truly needed him most.

McGonagall put her arm around her, and pulled her into a warm embrace. Lily wanted to move on from this state of desolation; it was taking too much out of her, draining her. Having support from old acquaintances were slowly aiding the process, for as the days went by, the burden slowly eased.

Professor Slughorn was the only teacher who didn't follow up on his promised visits. Lily found it a bit disconcerting. She didn't particularly care whether Slughorn came to see her, but she had honestly expected him to show up more than the other professors. She was, like he boasted, his favourite student after all, and he had seemed genuinely excited and willing to talk to her.

It was only a week after her initial encounter with the potions master when she found out that he had abruptly retired. When she asked McGonagall why, the transfiguration professor just shrugged. "He and Dumbledore got into an argument. After that, he decided to quit his job." McGonagall ended her explanation in a huff. Lily clearly saw that she didn't think too much of Professor Slughorn.

"Now, I'm given an extra burden of trying to find a replacement professor," McGonagall continued. "God knows I've found so many good candidates but Dumbledore rejected them all."

McGonagall pouted at the thought of all of her resources and the potential she saw in her selection of qualified applicants going to waste, only because Dumbledore had the final say in the hiring process.

"But he's not even here most of the time!" Lily said. "His latest venture out of Hogwarts is now the longest by far. If he isn't here to run the school, why should he care about who you choose as a replacement for Slughorn? He practically shoved all of his responsibilities on you anyway!"

McGonagall just gave her a tired smile and replied, "You and I can both agree that Dumbledore is not the easiest wizard to deal with, but I trust that he knows what he's doing." Just then, an owl flew into the room through one of the open windows, and Professor McGonagall untied a piece of parchment from its feet. "Speaking of the devil, he just ordered me to set up some meetings with the board. I guess it's time to go now, Lily. I'll see you later."

* * *

Several days passed before Dumbledore showed up at the Hospital Wing. Lily was slowly recovering from her state of mind. Little baby Neville kept her on her toes, and she placed all of her attention on his nurturing. She needed to be strong like she was before; if not for herself, then for the sake of her newly adopted baby. His energetic personality was contagious, and Lily took advantage of it to help her feel better.

Sirius had regularly communicated with her via floo network, and they agreed that it would be best if she moved to the cozy flat where Sirius was now currently staying. He volunteered to help Lily raise Neville and begin life afresh.

"How are you feeling now?" Dumbledore inquired.

Lily replied, "It's been wonderful to be back here, Dumbledore. I no longer need Madame Pomfrey's sleeping potions every single night. Neville is also growing so quickly! Look at how he's crawling about the room!"

Both of them glanced down on the floor to observe the baby creeping from one wall to the next.

"I can't wait to take him to meet Sirius," she said in an excited voice. "He'll have so much fun with him around! He's coming for me in a couple of days. I know I'm still not my normal self just yet – I don't know if I can ever be anymore – but I think it might be good for me to be with Sirius, don't you think so?"

Dumbledore eyed her closely, his fingers interlinked and propping his chin.

"Lily, remember what I was saying before Horace came to see you? I don't think that Lord Voldemort is truly dead. You see, when I dueled Bellatrix on that fateful night, I started to wonder. I had seen a glimpse of Hufflepuff's cup, and guessed that it had meant something very special for Voldemort. I believed that this was a horcrux, which is a vessel designed to encase and protect a piece of his soul."

"You mean You-Know-Who split his soul in two?" Lily asked in awe.

"At first, that is what I thought. The means by which a horcrux is made requires the most sinful of acts, that is, cold-blooded, calculated murder. Once the piece of soul is split from the whole and secured in the object chosen, the wizard cannot die unless all of the pieces of soul are destroyed."

"So," Lily said, "You-Know-Who cannot die unless this cup is found and destroyed?"

Dumbledore looked at Lily gravely. "I'm afraid it's not so simple. Our encounter with dear old Horace has complicated matters a bit. Did you see how anxious he was when I mentioned that Lord Voldemort was still undefeated?"

"Yeah, I guess so," Lily said. I thought he would have checked up on me like he promised. He was so glad to see me! Why did he retire so suddenly, Dumbledore?"

"To answer that question, we must go back to my little chat with him after I left you in the Hospital Wing. As you know, I am quite skilled at Legilimency. I didn't wish to invade Horace's privacy, but I knew that he was hiding something about Voldemort, something extremely important. Horace didn't want to talk, but after some prodding, he told me of what he claimed was his most regrettable action."

"What was it?" Lily asked.

"Here, if you accompany me to my office, I'll show you. I managed to coax this out of Horace with much difficulty."

Lily followed as Dumbledore began to walk out of the room. When they reached the seventh floor at the Headmaster's tower, Dumbledore stopped in front of the stone gargoyle and blurted, "Jelly Slugs!"

The gargoyle sprung to the side, revealing the chamber containing a spiraling staircase. They ascended into the office. Lily had only visited the place on a couple of occasions when she was a student, and it looked no different. The portraits of the previous headmasters were neatly dangling from the wall, and most of the subjects in them were fast asleep, or at least pretending to be. The desk was crowded with various magical objects, whirring and spinning away. Fawkes, his phoenix, was particularly distinct as he sat on his perch, showing off his elegantly crimson plumage.

Dumbledore reached into one of his cabinets and emerged with a shallow stone basin, marked with ancient runes. Silvery light emanated from it, and when Lily peered into its contents, the substance there seemed neither liquid nor gas.

"This is called a Pensieve," Dumbledore said, gesturing at the basin. "I use it to examine and analyse thoughts and memories. Here, Lily, let me escort you on a journey through Slughorn's memory."

Dumbledore took a vial of a similar silvery fluid out of his robe pocket and drained it into the Pensieve. He swirled the mixture with his wand, and when Lily bent forward to see, Slughorn's office was reflecting back up at her.

Dumbledore hooked Lily by the arm and both plunged their faces into the Pensieve, until they ended up in the midst of the memory.

Lily saw the younger Slughorn hosting one of his usual meetings with his club of favourite students. Tom Riddle, as handsome and charming as ever, stood out from the lot.

"Sir, is it true that Professor Merrythought is retiring?" he asked.

Lily watched as Slughorn praised him for his astuteness and ability to flatter. And suddenly, a thick white fog engulfed the room, and Slughorn's voice boomed through the mist, " _You'll go wrong, boy, mark my words."_

The fog cleared, but the event didn't seem to make any impact on the boys, or Slughorn. They carried on as if nothing unusual had happened, until Slughorn ushered them out as his clock struck eleven.

Tom, who stayed behind after all of his classmates had left, used his opportunity.

"Sir, I wanted to ask you something."

"Ask away, then, m'boy, ask away…", Slughorn replied.

"Sir, I wondered what you know about… about Horcruxes?"

And the dense fog filled the room again, and Slughorn's voice rang through the room, just as it had done before.

 _"I don't know anything about Horcruxes and I wouldn't tell you if I did! Now get out of here at once and don't let me catch you mentioning them again!"_

"Well, that's that," Dumbledore said serenely to Lily. "Time to go."

Both she and Dumbledore rose from the basin and fell onto the floor of the headmaster's office. Lily stared blankly at the Pensieve, unable to comprehend what she had just seen.

"As you might have noticed," said Dumbledore, "That memory has been tampered with. Slughorn has tried to alter his own memory."

"Tampered with?" repeated Lily. "But why?"

"Because, I think, he is ashamed of what he remembers," said Dumbledore. "He has tried to rework the memory to show himself in a better light, obliterating those parts which he does not wish me to see. It is, as you will have noticed, very crudely done, and that is all to the good, for it shows that the true memory is still there beneath the alterations."

"Why have you shown me this, Dumbledore?" Lily asked. "You've already told me that Tom Riddle knew about horcruxes and went on to create one."

"I have a feeling that the real memory will tell us more than that, Lily. It is essential that we know for sure…Slughorn's true memory is possibly the most important piece of information necessary to defeat Lord Voldemort once and for all, and I would like you to retrieve it for me."

Lily stared at Dumbledore, dumbfounded. "But surely, if it was so important, you could have used Legilimency, or Veritaserum…"

"Neither of those options would work; Slughorn will be expecting it. I do not think using force would be appropriate. I leave this important task to you, Lily, because I know you are the only one who can convince Slughorn to share his true recollections."

* * *

It took her a few days to find Slughorn, who took up residence in a remote village about a hundred miles away from Hogwarts. He had bought a house years ago, and had prided himself with the marvellous deal he had capitalised on when one of his past students (who was the owner of the house at the time) offered to sell it to him.

Lily found out all this when she visited him, having tracked him down using a bit of complex magic placed on a pocket watch Slughorn gave to her at one of his Christmas parties back in her days at school.

She had knocked on his door, but as she expected, there was no answer. But she knew her tracking spell was not faulty, and she forced the door open. Slughorn was about to sneak out through the back door and make a run for it when she called him out.

"Lily! Oh goodness! W-what brings you here?" Slughorn stammered.

"Wouldn't you care to offer me a cup of tea?" Lily asked, smiling. "I was so eager to catch up with you, but it seems that you weren't interested in keeping your promise anymore!"

"Oh no, no, Lily! I'm glad you came!" Slughorn retreated to his kitchen at once, and was already putting up a kettle on the stove.

Slughorn began to chatter away as he brought out some of his crystalized pineapple. He told her about his new house, and inquired as to how she knew he was here.

After about ten minutes of small talk, Lily tried to bring up the true motive for her visit. "It's a shame that you thought about retiring and not telling me! Why did you leave, Professor?"

"I'm afraid I'm not Professor any longer, dear," Slughorn replied. "And why shouldn't I leave? I'm getting down in years. Can't I live out the rest of my life in a stress free environment? Being a teacher is draining, you know!"

"I was wondering if it was…if it was because of your conversation with Dumbledore...Or more accurately, your conversation with Tom Riddle about horcruxes?"

Slughorn stared at her accusingly. "Dumbledore put you up to this!" Slughorn exclaimed. "If he has, then you already know the truth! I know nothing about horcruxes!"

"I know you well enough to recognize when you are hiding something, Professor Slughorn," Lily said. "I know you don't wish to tell neither I nor Dumbledore anything, but can't you see? You must help us win this war once and for all!"

"The war? The war is already over! There's nothing I can do!" Slughorn bellowed, his voice rising.

"Professor, please, be brave. Be brave for me, if not for anyone else. Haven't I suffered enough already? If Dumbledore says that your memory can truly be the key to stopping You-Know-Who for good, then you are truly the only one who can help us!"

Lily looked pleadingly into Slughorn's eyes, and he tried to break away from her captivating gaze. She decided to let all of her emotions flow. "I need to avenge my husband and son's death, Professor," she said quietly. "I need to get the information to defeat You-Know-Who once and for all."

There was a lengthy silence.

"But, my dear Lily...it's not so easy. I've made a horrible mistake, Lily. I can't give you what you want," Slughorn sobbed.

"Be brave, Professor Slughorn," Lily repeated. "I know you can do the right thing..."

Finally, Slughorn surrendered. He took out his wand and a small, empty bottle. Placing the tip of his wand to his temple, he extracted a string of silvery memory and placed it into the bottle.

Lily gingerly took the bottle and stoppered it. "Thank you, Professor." She went over to hug him.

"I am not proud…I am ashamed of what — of what that memory shows… I think I may have done great damage that day…", Slughorn whispered.

"You've cancelled out anything you did," Lily replied. "Giving me your memory was the brave and noble thing to do."

"Just don't think too badly of me once you've seen it…"

* * *

She tried to persuade Slughorn to return to Hogwarts, but he refused. He said he felt enormous guilt about what he had done, and he just couldn't meet Dumbledore's eyes anymore. She had no choice but to leave him to spend out the rest of his years in retirement.

When she returned to Hogwarts, an enthusiastic Dumbledore ushered her into his office immediately. They entered Slughorn's true memory now contained in the Pensieve, and found out about Tom's interest in splitting his soul into seven. Lily was appalled by the idea of such darkness. It made her sick, thinking about the man (was he even a man?) who spilled so much blood, and a flame of rage ignited in her spirit. She would do all that she could to make him pay for what he did to her.

"Lily, I'd like for you to be the new potions master," Dumbledore said with an encouraging smile.

Lily stared at Dumbledore in bewilderment. "Me? But I can't- I haven't done potions in years, and even if I wanted to take the job, I still have to care for Neville! How will I get the time?"

"Not to worry," Dumbledore answered, "Both you and Neville will be allowed to stay at Hogwarts. He will be adequately supervised by my house elves, even when you are busy with your work. You can even let Sirius come visit him as often as he likes, and you and Neville can also visit him."

"McGonagall told me you turned down several applications for the job," Lily rebutted. "Why choose me?"

"Because you were quite adept at potions when you were in school, and it is of utmost importance that you and I work together," Dumbledore said seriously.

"I'll think about it," she said. She walked out of the Headmaster's office but before she could descend the spiral staircase, she turned around and walked back into the room.

She accepted the position Dumbledore offered. She would be the new potions master, and work with Dumbledore to hunt down the six horcruxes. Dumbledore clapped his hands in satisfaction and told her he would prepare her office and bedchambers and have it ready for her soon.

It was late in the afternoon when Lily went back to the Hospital Wing to get her dose of sleeping potion. Today was particularly rough and exhausting. As she sat down, however, she felt a metallic tide rising in her mouth.

She rushed toward a nearby sink to wash up her vomit, but Madame Pomfrey caught her in the act. The school matron hurriedly fussed over her, performing a series of diagnostic spells to check if her physical health was in jeopardy.

Finally, Madame Pomfrey gave her the news. Lily was ecstatic and felt a resurgence of hope, and for the first time she thought she could actually fill the void in her heart. The fact that she was pregnant again fueled a fire within, and made her feel warm and whole once more.

She would have another child by James, and this child would continue the legacy her husband had left behind. She was happy that she could now hold on to some part of what she had lost in her deceased husband. The child would be there for her, just as James had been.

She fell asleep, forgetting to take her potion in her excitement. Her dreams were beautiful things that night, and she gently, subconsciously, pressed her hand onto her stomach.

Her dreams shifted and changed as the night progressed, and she suddenly twitched in her slumber. She woke up with a start, her body plastered in sweat. She thought she was dreaming, but the nightmare seemed to have continued even after her eyes had opened wide with panic and confusion. It was the middle of the night when she heard it. There was a noise coming out from her belly, hissing as though spitting venom, like that of a snake.

 **Thanks for reading, Please leave a review!**


	8. Suppressed Memories

_Albus_

The cup…the locket…the ring…something from Ravenclaw…and what else?...

This was his last mantra; the residue of his and Lily's quest after six years of investigation.

It had started with a demanding haste; an eagerness to uncover the truth. But there were several hindrances, and his efforts had begun to whittle away as the months progressed.

In the very beginning, his hunches and guesses were quickly transforming into certain belief. After retrieving Slughorn's tampered memory, the image of the cup had kept resurfacing in his mind. There it was, slowly revolving, a silver form shimmering and gliding above the Pensieve. The real cup was golden, of course, but the mark of Hufflepuff could not be mistaken.

It was a significant jumpstart on his road to further discovery of Tom Riddle's murky past. He needed to do this alone, and so he had left Hogwarts for days on end, trying to piece together the events in Lord Voldemort's life in an attempt to confirm his worst suspicions.

Then there was the matter of rounding up the remaining Death Eaters. Many had tried to flee. Others surrendered themselves with claims of their families being threatened if they did not join the Dark Lord, or that they were merely under the control of the Imperius curse.

Still, some of the wickedest of Lord Voldemort's followers remained evasive. Even though the ministry had caught her husband and brother-in-law, Bellatrix Lestrange had managed to get away from their clutches. It had become apparent that Peter Pettigrew also could not be found, despite the Ministry now knowing that he was in fact an unregistered Animagus. It had come as a complete shock to him that he, not Sirius, was the Potters' secret-keeper.

Although those matters were pressing in their own right, he inadvertently swept them under the rug for now. The thrill of his new and dangerous adventure was alluring, and he convinced himself that inevitably, it was the most important mission yet.

Tracking down Hokey had taken him a few weeks. He had heard about Hepzibah Smith, a rich, podgy woman who was quite proud of her social standing. She had always boastfully claimed that she was a descendant of Helga Hufflepuff. His curiosity was aroused when he learned about her death. After her conviction, Hokey had been kicked out into the streets by Hepzibah's family members and was left to fend for herself in dirty and dark alleyways, as old, confused and depressed as never before.

He had found her in the back of a coffee shop on a cold, late evening, huddled in a make-shift shelter comprised of littered cardboard boxes that threatened to collapse as the wind blew. The chill of the outside world assaulted her completely naked, wrinkled body. The Ministry had stripped away her tattered tea towel upon her conviction, as a ruling that she could no longer serve any family as an ordinary house-elf.

She was afraid of him. He had reached out his hands, tried to put a scarf around her, but she pulled away with discomfort. The feebleness in her legs were the only thing that kept her from running. She was malnourished. Her sad eyes protruded from their sockets, the skin in her face hanging as a result of her old age and lack of flesh.

"Please, Hokey," Dumbledore said, "I only wish to help you."

"Hokey doesn't want any of your help, Sir. Hokey needs to be alone. Hokey has caused enough trouble when she was with her mistress! Hokey doesn't want to be with anybody ever again!"

"Tell me what happened to your mistress, Hepzibah Smith," Dumbledore said.

"You knows my Misses?" Hokey said faintly. "Hokey is a bad house-elf, yes, very bad! Hokey didn't mean to do it, but it happened anyway, and it's all Hokey's own fault! Oh what shame Hokey has caused upon the Smith's name! What would Hokey's mother think if she knew what Hokey has done?"

"And what have you done, Hokey?"

"Hokey has made the biggest mistake of her life. Hokey can never forgive herself. Hokey has put poison in her mistress's evening cocoa! Hokey is the worst house-elf in the world!"

The modification of Hokey's memory had been deftly done. He had to penetrate layers of false beliefs before he got to the core, and extracting it had not been easy either. But finally, he had managed to catch the silvery strand and relieve it from Hokey's temple. The house-elf gratefully passed out, peacefully drifting off into a deep slumber that she would never again wake up from. The weight of the modified memory had exhausted her, but it was finally over now.

Hepzibah Smith had shown Tom Riddle the cup, and was murdered two days later. But she had also shown him Slytherin's locket, and Dumbledore saw the possibility that it too could be a horcrux. Tom had made sure to not leave behind any evidence that would connect him to the theft of the two precious heirlooms, nor of the murder of the old lady who had fawned over him.

Horcruxes…Dumbledore's mind trailed off to the night of Neville's attempted murder. It seemed as though Voldemort had already continuously mutilated his soul on numerous occasions; his transformation into the pale, hideous creature with warped features was a clear and divisive distinction from the once handsome young Riddle.

The stability of what was left of Lord Voldemort's soul was questionable. Could this be the reason for his sudden demise? And to think about the consequences of the remainder of his soul ripping out of his body…

* * *

He had to warn Lily. He knew that she needed to recover, and he was trying his best to see it happen. She was resting comfortably at Hogwarts for almost a month now, and he truly had no desire to involve her in this dark matter, one that could potentially trigger her into an even worse state of mind. But it had to be done, for her sake, and for Neville's sake as well.

He needed her to get the true memory from Slughorn. If he was being honest, it was, admittedly, a test. He kept telling himself that roping her in with his hunt for horcruxes would help her, distract her. It was an efficient way to channel her emotions into something productive and worthy of pursuing. But deep down, he felt as if he was falling back into the trap he had dug for himself. Manipulation was his favourite tactic, whether he chose to acknowledge it or not. He felt it creeping back up in his mind, and he voluntarily let it turn the cogs as he formulated his new plans.

When Lily brought him Slughorn's real memory, he felt a fierce and genuine pride for her. He saw the flare in her eyes, awakened and hungry for a new purpose. For a while, he forgot about his fear of reverting back to his old, dastardly habits that he tried so hard to suppress. Why shouldn't he station Lily and Neville wat Hogwarts, where they would be under his watchful eye? Why shouldn't he instruct her to keep the subject of horcruxes between the two of them alone? He had to teach her and train her so that she could understand the truth about Neville, and pass on the lessons to him when the time was ripe. No, it wouldn't do any good for anyone else to know what he and Lily were really doing.

Weeks had passed and he had shown Lily his own two vivid memories of Tom Riddle; the day he first met Tom in the orphanage, and the day Lord Voldemort came to request the Defense Against the Dark Arts post. From there, he and Lily discussed the nature surrounding Tom's horcruxes.

He explained to Lily how Tom liked to hoard trophies ever since he was a little boy in the orphanage, torturing his fellow room-mates and collecting and cherishing mementos that signified some of these brutal events.

"I trust you can clearly see how the idea of horcruxes would seem very appealing to Lord Voldemort," Dumbledore remarked.

"But how do we know what sort of objects You-Know-Who would use to make horcruxes?" Lily asked.

Dumbledore pointed out the tremendous appreciation Tom had for Hogwarts. It was a place Tom regarded as a monument so highly steeped in magic that only few other wonders in the wizarding world could compare. It was the only place he could have called home, and it was filled with mystery and history. To be associated with Hogwarts, it seemed to Tom, would be one of the most prestigious ways to claim his skill in wizardry and superiority against the common muggles he so despised.

"Even when he was on the verge of becoming the Dark Lord," Dumbledore said, "He still wanted to foster and strengthen his ties with the school. You saw this when he came to ask me to take him on as the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor."

"And this has led you to believe that the items he chose for his horcruxes are linked to Hogwarts?" Lily asked.

"Yes, I believe so," Dumbledore said. "I think that most of them would be connected to Hogwarts' in some way. And all of them would be treasures of extreme value."

"But then," Lily said, almost in exasperation, "How on earth will we be able to find them? Surely, You-Know-Who would have gone to great lengths to protect them! We don't even know what they are!"

"I appreciate your grasp of the severity of the situation. Fortunately, I have a good guess as to what two of them might be. One, I think, is Hufflepuff's cup, and the other I believe is Slytherin's locket." Dumbledore finally showed her the memory he procured from Hokey, and saw that Lily's eyes were burning brighter as they came closer and closer to unraveling Tom Riddle's secrets. He knew he needed to tell her soon. Now would be as good a time as any.

"Lily, there's something that you need to know," Dumbledore began. "On Halloween night, when Lord Voldemort tried to kill Neville…"

His voice cracked and he hesitated for a bit before resuming, "When Lord Voldemort tried to kill Neville, I think that the remnant of his soul was already so fragile and unstable that it was ripped apart from his body when the curse rebounded. Lily, on that night, at least one act of vicious murder was carried out. Lord Voldemort killed an innocent child, your son Harry. When his own curse rebounded on him, the morsel of soul he had remaining was expelled from his body."

Lily closed her eyes, trying to process his words.

"I believe the bit of soul that escaped latched itself onto the most vulnerable living thing in the room that night. I think little Neville, who is now only a little over three months old, was the prime host for this piece of Voldemort's soul."

"You mean to say that Neville is a horcrux?" Lily asked in a hushed voice.

"You might say that," Dumbledore suggested. "He may not be a horcrux in the truest sense; Lord Voldemort certainly didn't intend to make him one. You see, there is a certain spell required to make a horcrux, after the murdering of a victim and the splitting the soul has occurred. No…the act of creating a horcrux must be deliberate. However, I do think that Lord Voldemort wasn't finished with his horcrux-making. He would have viewed Harry and Neville's demise as the final nail in the coffin for any doubts about his invincibility. I'm willing to bet that Lord Voldemort intended to use Harry and Neville's deaths to make a horcrux with a vessel he already prepared. But now the question remains, which death would it have been…or could it have been both?"

He could see that Lily was getting impatient with his musings. "Please, Dumbledore, please tell me that nothing bad would happen to Neville!"

"I didn't wish to tell you all of this so soon, Lily, but I felt you had the right to know. Lily, I can't say for sure what the consequences of having an additional fragment of soul would be for Neville. But please, don't worry. You and I will make sure that he grows up happy and healthy. But we must remember that he is the Chosen One. This might in fact bolster his abilities in some unforeseen way. Lily, I'm afraid to say that there will indeed come a time when Neville will have to face the Dark Lord once again. The scar that he has, and this remnant of Voldemort's soul that he possesses, has made his connection to the Dark Lord even stronger."

"I don't care about the stupid prophecy or Neville being the Chosen One!" Lily said. "I want my son to be safe! I don't want a piece of Lord Voldemort inside of him; what if it controls him?"

"Lily, you must have faith in your love for him. He will grow up to be much stronger than you could imagine. We will find a way to get rid of that part of Lord Voldemort's soul, but for now, relish in the fact that your Neville is away from danger."

But tried as he might, he couldn't bear to tell her that there was only one ultimate way to end Lord Voldemort. He couldn't muster the courage to tell Lily that eventually, Neville would have to die.

* * *

He had sensed it long ago, weeks before Lily finally told him about her pregnancy. Poppy had prepared many droughts for her after that terrible night, but he could still see the fear stifling her. He was teaching her the art of Occlumency, and she was learning it rapidly

But even though she tried to hide her worries about her pregnancy from him, he still sensed it. As powerful a witch as she was, becoming a competent Occlumens could not happen overnight. Lily's mind simply was not prepared enough so as to conceal thoughts that constantly plagued her, especially when confronted by an expert Legilimens such as himself.

Lily was drowning in paranoia, and he could do nothing to quell it. She was sure that a remnant of Lord Voldemort was growing in her womb…could it be another _horcrux_? On the night of the murders, could the fetus have been alive at barely a few weeks old? Did it have a soul by then? Could the piece of Lord Voldemort's soul replace the one that it was intended to have? Or would it coexist with a soul that was already growing with the baby?...

It was all the more reason for her to master Occlumency. He had told her it would help her cope with all of the unease she was experiencing, from losing her husband and child to facing this new predicament about her baby; it would assist her in encasing her darkest thoughts in a safe and isolated place so that they wouldn't consume her. In the meantime, his other reasons for teaching her Occlumency remained a secret.

He didn't like the idea of a portion of Lord Voldemort's soul growing inside Lily, throbbing in sync with the pulsing of the blood in her veins... No, she needed to get rid of it, once and for all.

She blatantly refused his advice. The chance for a new start, a fresh chapter in her life, was all she wanted, he knew. There was no way she would give up her baby, the only remnant of James that could somehow fill the void that still remained open.

However, Lily's anxiety worsened as the weeks went by. She didn't know what would happen to the baby, and it was nerve-wracking to think of her baby being corrupted by the darkness that had taken root in her. She was still in the belly of the beast, for the beast remained in her belly.

She turned to books related to the Dark Arts for assistance. She would pour over them in the restricted section of the library for hours on end, trying to find instructions to safely terminate her pregnancy, given her special case.

The end of her first trimester was drawing near, and Lily was getting desperate. Finally, Lily stumbled onto something, and she showed him the research she found. There was a spring in her step as she ran up to him, and she triumphantly set her book down on his desk.

She pointed to the instructions contained in _Methods of Dark Purges_ , and urged him to perform the complex bit of magic that would isolate the darkness that was tainting the unborn child.

"Lily, you know I can't do this," Dumbledore warned her, "Trying to find answers in a Dark Arts book will not bode well for you. The spells you have shown me are unimaginably dangerous if the slightest mistake is made, and it could jeopardize your own well-being even if the spell is performed correctly."

"But I know that you are more than capable of doing this, Dumbledore! Who else could do it? Don't you see, Dumbledore? I need you to do this for me; for the baby! Please!"

Water was gathering in her eyes, but he turned his back on her. He knew that her thought of having the baby safe and whole was giving her renewed hope, but he also knew the consequences of using dark magic, even if it was to counter dark magic itself. No…he couldn't bring himself to do it, no matter how tempting it was to think that if he did, he would finally get to see Lily happy again.

Lily became furious with his refusal. He remembered how she stormed out of his office with her book in hand. He rushed toward the direction of her bedchambers, but it was already locked and barricaded with protective enchantments put up by Lily herself. He broke them down within a few seconds, but he was already too late.

Her wand was pointing at her stomach, and a blue shimmer was just about to fade. "I did it, Dumbledore! I did it!"

He looked at her, but he didn't see any result. She was the same as before, and there was no visible product of the magic she performed. _Did something go wrong?_ He saw her delight vanish, and the expression on her face was replaced with disappointment. She was still trapped with the monster inside her...

Months had flown by, and their hunt for horcruxes was put on the back burner. He constantly monitored and supervised her, making sure that she wouldn't do anything to harm herself or that which resided in her womb.

Then, late one evening, he heard her cry out in excruciating pain. He rushed to her side. The due date was still far away. She grasped his hand tightly; he could hear her heart palpitating as she took long, deep breaths. Something was emerging out of her, a darkness that took the form of a small, brown, scaly figure. It slithered out of her, its body still curled up in the position of a sleeping fetus. Its face was distorted; it was one of the ugliest things he had ever seen.

But Lily's stomach was still bulging, and he quickly performed protective charms to ensure that the unborn child remained safely in her womb. He would not let it die.

He saw Lily's smile of relief as she placed her hand on the bump in her gut, perhaps feeling that at last, purity and goodness was finally thriving in her womb. He saw her catch a glimpse of the pitiful monstrosity that was purged out of her, the expression on her face riddled with horror and shock. He quickly took it away from her sight. It was barely alive, and was scarcely breathing. And then it finally stopped.

He recoiled at the inert miscreation in disgust. He had a lot on his mind, and he retreated to his office for the night to reflect on his thoughts, leaving Poppy to tend to Lily.

Inside, he felt gladness. He had hoped that it would be over, and that Lily would accept that the parasitic soul was no longer in her. But her fears that the darkness had lingered on inside her had only magnified; Lily had succumbed to a state that seemed as though she was on the brink of craziness. He wondered if it was the effects of the dark ritual she had performed months ago. Lily's ersatz behavior continued throughout the remainder of her gestation period.

The time came for her to deliver the baby. It entered the world with a loud, high-pitched crying, a little baby girl with half-shut eyes and a round, chubby face.

The shrill wailing of the child died down after it was cleaned and given to Lily. She pressed the little baby close, and it smiled and giggled at her. The baby was pink and hairless, but was in good health. Lily seemed to be content, singing a sweet lullaby as the child went to sleep in her arms. All seemed to be well, and he beamed at her.

* * *

For the next five years, he saw Lily go about her life with a strict regularity, flourishing in her work as the Potions Master, and caring for Neville and her newborn daughter with due diligence. They had tried to learn everything they could about Tom Riddle. They journeyed far and wide, visiting those places the heir of Slytherin once knew. Obtaining Bob Ogden's memory was simple when compared to his retrieval of an imprisoned Morfin's.

His was another suppressed memory, just like Hokey's. While Dumbledore only had to use his skillful methods of persuasion on Ogden, the true memory of Tom Riddle's uncle was concealed so deeply, inhibited by the false implantation. The fake recollection had weaved itself into his mind, suffocating the true one. Azkaban had weakened poor Morfin, and he lasted only a few weeks after Dumbledore's visit.

The memories had confirmed Dumbledore's suspicions about the ring and the locket. And he now had an inkling as to where one of the horcruxes could be hidden.

They visited the Gaunts' shack on one warm summer day. The place was aloof and distant from the little village. The trees seemed to have innocuously entangled themselves in an impenetrable barrier that protected the shack.

"It's one of Lord Voldemort's protective measures," Dumbledore said to Lily. "To the untrained eye, it would seem like an ordinary arboreal seclusion, but we know better, don't we?"

He brandished his wand in one sweeping motion and the trunks and branches snaked their way to let them pass. It was the first of many obstacles he had to get past in order to recover the ring.

Amidst the weeds and brush, they feasted their eyes on the ruins of the building that appeared before them. The walls were grimier and mossier than ever, even more so than when he had observed it in Ogden and Morfin's memories.

The protective spells placed on the shack were numerous; the sudden creation of a vacuum that sucked the oxygen out of the atmosphere so that they could no longer breathe; the reanimation of so many snakes, as copious as the weeds in the ground, ready to strike at them but could not be killed since they were already dead; the sickening way the shack swallowed them in what felt like perpetual and suffocating darkness, hell-bent on driving them to irreversible senselessness, as they entered the door.

He could feel Lily looking on in amazement as he broke them one by one, and they stepped into the dilapidated shelter.

Slowly, carefully, they examined the rooms – well, there were three rooms, really, if you could call them that – until he saw the hint of metal shining beneath one of the rotting floorboards. He procured a golden box, and in it, he found Slytherin's ring.

He was excited. He had seen the black stone set in the ring, and the memories about his search for the Hallows climbed back up in his mind, and he was unable to conquer them. Uniting the Hallows had been his mission for the greater part of his life, and in foolish frenzy he placed the ring in his finger.

He smiled blissfully in anticipation, waiting for Ariana and his mother Kendra to emerge in front of him. For years he had tried to bury the painful ruminations of them, of what he did to them, of the enormous guilt he felt. Those memories now flooded and consumed his brain, and it was torture all over again. This was his time to see them again; he would apologize for all of his mistakes, and they would shower him with the love and comfort that he so desperately desired.

But they never came to him.

Instead, he felt a pain shoot up in his finger and spread unforgivingly throughout his hand. The curse placed on the ring was killing him. It blackened and withered his hand, which went limp as the flesh rotted. He took out the ring in haste, but the damage was already done.

If it wasn't for his exceptional proficiency as a wizard, he would have died instantly. He managed to prohibit the curse from spreading, and called out to Lily.

When the pain in his hand subsided, they apparated back to Hogwarts.

Lily saw his hand and gasped. "What happened to your hand?"

The blackness in his hand was creeping up his forearm now.

"Lily."

Lily stood there, her eyes transfixed on the ring on his desk.

He took Gryffindor's sword, already imbued with venom from the Basilisk that was killed not more than a year ago in the Chamber of Secrets, and hit the sharpened blade against the ring. The soul stored inside of the horcrux let out a hissing scream, and then it was no more.

His actions did nothing to break the curse in his hand. Lily was still concentrating on the ring, oblivious to everything else around her.

She ignored him as he shouted out to her, and then he collapsed to the floor, the curse dispersing itself throughout his entire body until all that was left of him was his darkened and emaciated corpse.

 **A/N: So, here's another chapter at last. There's a lot of things to talk about.**

 **During research, I realized I made an error in chapter 7: Walburga Black, Sirius's mother, would have still been alive in the 1980's and thus Sirius would not have been living in Grimmauld Place. Also, in the immediate aftermath in the first wizarding war, Sirius and Remus were not on speaking terms since Sirius thought that there was a possibility that Remus was a spy, and so did not trust him. I corrected these minor mistakes when I updated the previous chapter.**

 **All of the chapters I've posted so far have been quite bleak, and perhaps this might have been frustrating to read. But inevitably, this story is about the downfall of Lily as a character, and her subsequent growth from it. In canon, Lily was an almost flawless character, and I don't want my protagonist to be like that.**

 **Writing from Dumbledore's point of view has been difficult. It's hard to write him as the god-like, perfect wizard who can solve anything and who knows everything. So I can understand if you think he is out of character. Thankfully, this would be his last chapter.**

 **Hopefully, the next chapter would be lighter in tone - it will be from six year old Neville's perspective. I plan to introduce some original characters (other than Lily's daughter). For the sake of my story, I will be assuming that some of them existed in canon but were never mentioned, but now they play a significant role in this alternate universe. You'll see what I mean when I introduce them.**

 **I will soon be explaining how and why the Chamber was opened in the following chapters.**

 **I need to make progress with my masters thesis and some other courses, so I'm not sure when I will be able to update again.**

 **Thanks for reading, and I hope you stay tuned for more!**


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